


A Mysterious Winter

by PurpleJesus



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age AU, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Romance, Romantic Fluff, game deviation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:11:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 90,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleJesus/pseuds/PurpleJesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Scout catches Solas's eye.  She's a Seer.  Slight deviation from the game.  She keeps trying to fade into obscurity, but as each companion meets her, it looks like that won't happen.   I'm having fun with it.</p><p>It's hard to keep your cover around so many intelligent and gifted individuals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Starts

**Author's Note:**

> Floating around my head for a few days. Noncannon. Non Inquisitor. Spoilers. 
> 
> Harel means dreaded/frightening/causing fear. 
> 
> I also really wanted to put my cat in a story. 
> 
> Amalthea is modeled after my Elf Inquisitor, who I modeled after one of my favorite characters of all time, Amalthea from The Last Unicorn. Also, I just watched the Princess Bride so I’m shamelessly stealing lines from it. 
> 
> I own nothing except my OC.

Amalthea Lavellan, who was simply known as “Winter” or “Wint” was an efficient scout and spy. 

Winter was intimidating, though she did her best to hide it. She was solemn and quiet, and her eyes held many secrets. Unnaturally tall for her species, but still slender like elves tended to be. Her white blond hair was long on top, with one braid down the left side of her face, the rest swept over to the right, with the sides and back of her head shaved. Her skin was as pale as her hair. She was often assigned the missions in the colder regions, because in her silver and white scout armor she blended seamlessly in with the snow. 

She knew the others whispered she was as cold as winter as well; and she didn’t try to discourage the belief that she was frigid and liked solitude. It was best if she stayed away from others. She had a secret, and it better suited her to be unapproachable rather than risk someone finding out. Winter was a Seer. 

Sometimes she was just going about her day to day life and would be blinded by a vision so captivating and realistic she would freeze, to stare wide-eyed at nothing until it released her from it’s grasp. Sometimes she would just get a vague feeling something was going to happen before it did. Other times the immediate future would superimpose itself onto the current one, and she would react as something was happening. Often she would catch things as people were dropping them, or counter an argument before the person made it, effectively making her disagreements short-lived. 

She always knew her opponents next move, so fighting was rarely a challenge. She was beyond being deadly with her knives and bow, and a proficient assassin when she needed to be. And sometimes she went to sleep, and saw the future play out in her dreams. She avoided touching other people when she could, that usually triggered visions of their future. She could hold them back, but the mental strain took it’s toll and wasn’t worth it after a time. She usually limited it to when she absolutely had to be around people for a long stretch of time.

She also got glimpses of the past, and they were just as confusing because she never knew it was the past or the future. And she frustrating enough, she could rarely see her own past, more specifically how she came to be. She had been a foundling in the woods, and as a child had always been curious about her parents. 

The worst of it were the things she couldn’t change. The future was constantly in motion anyway, but some things seemed to be set in stone no matter how hard she tried. Oh, there were little things she could avoid. Like bumps and bruises. Some missteps. Certain situations. Upon meeting people she sometimes got a flash of their future. When her clan approached others they hid her, she had a tendency as a child to tell adults their fates, and her pale coloring combined with her unnaturally solemn matter-of-factness was unnerving. The first time as a teenager she met a boy not of her clan, she saw their first kiss. She was charmed, swept up in the romance unfolding in her mind, until she saw his inevitable betrayal with another, after she would have given herself to him. She spurred his advances, wanting to protect her own heart. That was when she started to get her reputation of being cold, the first time someone had called her Winter, intended as an insult. Instead she picked up the name as a shield, using it to avoid others, not wanting to be burdened with knowing who next would let her down. It strained things with her clan even more.

She was able to avoid that first heartache; but there were many things she couldn’t, and didn’t, see. She didn’t see herself being banished from her clan. They didn’t listen to her, found her spooky, and dismissed what she had to say. One day she revealed too much, and fearful of her power, what she knew, and how she came by the knowledge, they cast her out. They claimed it was because she refused to get a Vallaslin, and she rejected their way of life. They didn’t want to listen when she insisted the markings were slave markings, and cast her out. 

She spent many years on her own after that. Her clans betrayal further setting her convictions to avoid others. Her lack of Vallaslin making other Dalish wary of her. Humans were convinced it was because she was trying to be like them, and just the general hatred of elves they seemed to harbor. She didn’t care, solitude suited her better than the alternative. When she felt lonely she would sit and let the visions of possible futures flood her mind, seeing wonders yet to come and some that would never be. Besides she wasn’t truly alone, she had a cat, Commander Zelda. A little black and orange bobtail that was her constant companion. She had stumbled on the kitten abandoned in the woods, and couldn't bring herself to just leave the poor thing there. And she did have a few vendors she was on speaking terms with, if only professionally. She had to sell her wares somewhere, and get items she couldn’t make on her own. Sometimes local guardsmen would spare with her. However, once she beat them her welcome was worn thin. 

But when she saw the sky being ripped open and demons spill forth, she had to help, even though she felt in her heart she couldn’t stop it. She wasn’t doing anything with her life besides wandering; and the vision had the metallic tang of finality, so she knew it was unavoidable. It tasted of lead, which always meant death. She saw the formation of the Inquisition, and the rise of the Herald. The irony that they were of the same clan wasn’t lost on her, even if she was 7 years senior to the elf and didn’t know her personally. She felt her future with the Inquisition. She also saw what would happen should the Inquisition fail. She may have had little use for the world, but she didn’t want it to end up like that.

So she had made her way to Haven and joined after the Breach opened. She slipped in with the first recruits. She didn’t exactly pledge and fully join, just started showing up for meetings and acting like she belonged. After her first few successful assignments, they were just grateful to have her. In the chaos after the blast, no one seemed to notice. She was good at blending in when she put her mind to it. 

But what came after, after the dragon, after the fall of Haven, left her truly scared for the first time in her life. The widespread carnage was terrible, she knew she would have nightmares for years to come. But it was a premonition that had left her shaken. She saw grey eyes, staring at her intently. The face around them was handsome, a slight dimple in his pointed chin and strong jaw. He had a proud nose and a generous mouth. But it was his eyes that captivated her, they had a quiet intensity that threatened to crack her ice; they seemed to see through her. The vision, like all her inevitable ones, left the taste of metal in her mouth, so she knew it was set in stone. But instead of lead, she tasted antimony. And it left her with the certainty that it would happen at Skyhold, their next destination. Somehow their futures were intertwined. 

Wint had taken an injury in the dragon blasts while helping some villagers escape. The retreat hadn’t helped her leg. She was wary of magic users, afraid they would sense her otherness, so she limited her visits to the tents when it was just the regular healers.  
It made her road to recovery long, and Harding had wanted to keep her at Skyhold, not wanting to risk losing her permanently. Healing potions helped some, but for whatever reason weren’t speeding things along like they normally did. She just figured she had worked up a tolerance to them. 

Winter was nervous, being around the keep always made her that way. She kept her eyes down and her helmet low. She stayed to herself more than usual, and today was was no different. It had been two weeks and she was losing her mind. She hadn’t even been able to do her normal weapon exercises. She could only limp around, so regular labor was out of the question. She sometimes helped with scout reports, but that grew dull after a time. She had taken to spying on the inner workings of the keep, learning much about the people that ran it. Especially the Inquisitors inner circle. They were a fascinating bunch, a ragtag group of individuals that shouldn’t work but somehow did, balancing each other out. She avoided the elves though. Neither sported a Vallaslin either, but after being so harshly rejected by her people, she wasn’t willing to trust any of them. She made sure to stay far enough away from both to not trigger any visions. Sometimes that helped.

She remembered the day she saw the male, Solas, for the first time. It had been at Haven, she had come out of the Alchemist hut after trading in some elf root she had picked in exchanged for healing potions. He had been standing in the light, his back to her. He was tall for an elf, but with the sun behind him when he turned slightly at the noise she made she couldn’t make out his features. Something about him had set her warning bells off, so before he could get a good look at her, or she at him, she had fled, head down. 

Wint pushed these thoughts from her mind. She had stuff to do before her daily rounds. It was a cold, after a fresh snow. She had grabbed her morning rations and wearing her Vir Banal’ras armor, she went and hid behind a half-wall in a lesser travelled part of the keep, back against a wall, facing away from the main hub. She sat in the snow, eating, before laying down and putting her helmet over her face, willing her leg to get better so she could again go out into the field. She sighed as she let the visions take her. She had been keeping them at bay for awhile now, and the strain was wearing on her. She had kept them back because she had not wanted to risk getting trapped in one and waking up and making eye contact with the wrong person. But the effort was giving her a headache, and combined with her leg she couldn’t handle it anymore. She figured her hiding spot was out of the way enough that no one would bother her.

Plus sometimes they gave her insight into the locations the other scouts were heading to, and she could subtly pass along the info to ensure mission success.  
As preoccupied as she was, she didn’t realize she hadn’t seen Zelda for any long stretch of time in a few days. Normally the little cat came and went as she pleased, but she would typically hang around her elf, warning her if someone approached. But the cat had been curiously absent for most of that time for awhile now.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time Solas saw the cat three days before, he was in his study, contemplating the next part of the mural. He had gotten up early after a disappointing night in the Fade. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the Inquisitor out of his mind. She had been on a mission for several weeks with Vivienne, Cole, and Cassandra. Her absence helped; he knew anything more than friendship with her wasn’t possible. And she favored the Commander. But he didn’t harbor any anger; had no right to. And he had only himself to blame, he had warned her of their friendship that could have easily blossomed into more and that it was a bad idea. There was no future with him; she deserved better. She had heeded him, saying she had no interest in convincing someone to spend time with her. And as the Anchor…he knew what would happen down that road. He sighed and turned away from the walls, all he wanted to paint today were her features. A foolish endeavor. He was supposed to be above such things, normally keeping his emotions locked away, but somehow she had awoken them.

When he turned he saw the most curious cat he had ever seen. It was sitting on his desk, watching him. It was black, but with orange and hints of white muddled throughout it’s fur. It’s eyes were a dark golden brown that had a curious intelligence to them. After regarding him for a few moments, it gave him a look of disdain and stood up, yawning and stretching it’s back to let him know it was unimpressed. He was mildly surprised to see that it didn’t have a tail. It sat back down, looked him right in the eyes, as it pushed a book off his desk. The book hitting the ground jarred Solas out of his trance, and he yelled and waved his arms, the cat took off. Solas grumbled and picked up the book. 

The next time he saw it was a few hours later. He was up on some scaffolding, painting, when he heard a noise. It sounded like the screech of a dragonling, but when he looked down at the floor, it was the same damn cat from before. It was sitting next to one of his open paint dishes, with a deep color he didn’t have room for up above with him. Knowing what was coming, he started down, yelling at the vile animal to scat. But it merely gave him the scornful look, dipped it’s paws in the paint, and then took off running, leaving a trail out the door into the throne room that he had to explain to a laughing Varric, who had seen the cat take off. The trail ran out at the front door.

Solas was not amused and decided to take measures to try and keep the damn thing out of his area. He put up wards, confident the nuisance would be taken care of. So he was miffed and surprised the next morning to see the cat curled up smugly on his chair. It yawned and stretched, opened one eye to give him a glare, before curling back into a ball. Solas took a deep breath to calm himself, “alright, you can stay Harel, but if you cause more trouble, you’re gone”. The cat ignored him.

An hour later he was lost in thought, reading a text as he paced back and forth, when the cat ran out of nowhere, jumped up, sunk it’s claws into him, bit him, then ran off. He startled at the onset, and let out an expletive, but the cat was long gone. It wisely didn’t come back the rest of the day. Solas was glad, it’s animal tauntings were stirring the animal in him. Later that night, when he was on his way to a taller tower to observe the stars, it did it again. Ran out of the night, with it’s dark fur he never even saw it coming, attacked, and then disappeared. It soured his mood and he turned back, just wanting to read in the safety of his room before going to sleep. He found his mind was pondering the mystery of the animal. Where did it come from? Who did it belong to? Was it even natural? When he got to his sleeping quarters, he was annoyed to find a dead mouse next to his bed. He tossed it out the window. He grumbled to himself as he got ready for bed by the light of his veilfire. He knew what the cat was insinuating when it gave him the dead mouse, and he didn’t appreciate it.

The third morning it was curiously absent. Solas had walked into his tower with the expectation of seeing it on his desk, daring him to react to it’s actions. But when it wasn’t there, he shrugged and contemplated the walls. But his mind kept returning to the little beast and what it would do next. It escaped his notice that he was so concerned about what the cat would do next, he hadn’t thought about the Inquisitor in days.

When it appeared around noon it was almost a relief. It waited until his lunch was brought to him, the staff had figured out that if he was preoccupied he wouldn’t eat, and the Inquisitor had requested they keep an eye on him while she was gone. He heard the servant leave the tray and turned to thank her back, when he saw the cat stalking towards his desk. He watched it with narrowed eyes, and when it grabbed an apple by the stem off his lunch tray, he raised his eyebrows. With one last scornful look, it turned, neatly jumped down, and stalked out.

Curiosity finally winning over, Solas found himself following the little brute. It wound it’s way through the keep, avoiding crowds. No one seemed to notice the odd thing, carrying an apple, which puzzled him. Were they used to a cat carrying apples or did they truly not notice? Eventually it ended up into a mostly deserted corner of the garden, and hopped up on the half wall. It seemed to be regarding something on the ground the other side, before dropping the apple. Solas heard the unmistakable clang of said apple hitting metal, and a yelp of surprise. He was startled to feel his lips quirk up in an almost smile. At least he wasn’t the only being the strange creature liked to torture. 

When he heard a female voice swear and reprimand the small cat, he found himself making his way over, curious about the companion of such an insufferable beast. As he started to close the distance he saw someone sit up, she was still cursing. Her scout hat was still over her face, but the long pointed ears told him she was Elvhen. She pushed the hat on the top of her head, but still kept it low over her eyes. Not that he could see her face anyway, as she was facing away from him.

She was muttering to herself when the cat suddenly yowled and pounced on her, knocking the hat from her head. She yelped again and fell backwards, before springing back up and rubbing her hands over her face. “You terrible beast! You’re on your own for dinner tonight!” She looked around for her hat, before scooping it up, so angry she set it back on her head so it no longer covered any part of her face. After a moment he saw her pick up the apple, toss it in the air, and then slipped it into her pocket, “But thanks for the apple! I’m still going to skin you alive, you hateful thing!” The terrible beast in question stalked by him, it’s movements radiating smugness. He could have sworn it gave him a look like ‘your turn’ as it proudly walked by him.

He found that his curiosity was growing by the minute. The scout was slowly getting to her feet, and he could tell she was favoring one leg. He felt a stab of sympathy, he could tell it was really hurting her, her violent oath further confirming it. He decided it was time to step forward. He noted with interest her pale coloring by the back of her neck, as if she had never been in the sun. Her hair was a lovely silver blonde. He stopped on the other side of the wall, behind her.

“Excuse me miss, do you require aid?” Winter was so startled by the voice and someone, somehow sneaking up on she turned around, forgetting to avoid eye contact. Solas sucked in a breathe when he saw her face. She was beyond lovely. Her nose was small, delicate, and slightly upturned at the tip. Her lips generous and a pale pink. They had a solemn set to them. Her cheekbones high and prominent, with just a touch of rose in them. Her chin was slightly pointed and there was a stubborn set to her jaw. She was also very tall for an Elf maid, but he still had an inch or two on her.

The only true color to her were her eyes; and they were her best feature. They were large and almond shaped, but it was the color that mesmerized. Her outer irises were dark purple, the inner a lighter variant of the shade. As she shifted on her feet they appeared almost pink in the early afternoon light. Her lashes were long and silver. She had some white shadow over her lids, with the bottom of her eyes lined in black, accenting their shape and making the color stand out more dramatically. 

He also noticed she didn’t have the vile Vallaslin, but dismissed it as she probably grew up in an alienage, something almost equally unappealing. 

Winter, for her part, was staring at him in shock. She felt the blood drain from her face, probably making her look even more like a corpse. She knew that face. Had seen it after the Fall of Haven. It had plagued her for weeks. And now she knew who it belonged to, Solas, the Inquisitor’s friend, and at one point it was rumored they were more. He was also a mage who specialized in the Fade. Winter gulped.

None of this helped her now, because they were still just standing there, both staring wide-eyed at the other. Well she was. He looked cool and collected. Winter braced herself for an onslaught of visions, and when they didn’t come her expression changed from shocked to confusion. He spoke first.

Solas realized he was being incredibly rude, and when her face drained of more color he thought it was due to her realizing who he was. He sensed she had no magic, so she was probably wary of who he was. Apostate mages were often met with distrust. Still, he was nothing if not well-mannered, so he tried for an informal greeting, “Aneth ara”. All it did was make her tense more and now she was staring at him in confusion. He pursed his lips, never having expected this outcome when he followed that cat. Maybe she didn’t understand their language? It made sense if she grew up in a city. He tried for common “Hello, I’m Solas” And in a human gesture, he held out his hand.

Winter was still eyeing Solas curiously, but realized she didn’t have a good excuse to not take his hand. Even if it was a stupid human way to greet people. She gripped his, glad to be wearing gloves at least, and said the formal greeting, “Andaran atish’an. I’m Winter”.

Winter braced herself when she took his hand, still wary of visions, but nothing happened. She finally let herself relax a fraction mentally. But she was on guard with him. Solas didn’t miss the formal greeting, but quirked a brow at her name. “Winter?” He found he was reluctant to let go of her hand. Winter felt her face heating up. But it was as good a name as any to give. Amalthea was an unwanted pariah among Elvhen with a dangerous secret. Winter was a regular, run-of-the-mill scout within the Inquisition. Once the world was saved, Winter could disappear, and Amalthea could go back to surviving in the wilds alone.

She withdrew her hand, and Solas regretted the distance and his rudeness at questioning her name; even as her cheeks were tinged with a very becoming blush. “It’s a Scout thing.” “Do you have a formal name?” Winter pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It’s of no significance.” Solas’s felt his lips twitch. He loved a good mystery. The cat took that moment to twine around her legs and jump up on the half-wall between them. Solas focused his gaze on the animal, welcoming the distraction when he was clearly making her uncomfortable. Perhaps he could visit her in the Fade, and she would be more forthcoming in a dream. 

“So this….creature….it belongs to you?” He glanced back up at her face. She was looking down at the small cat as well, and her eyes had softened, and her lips had turned up slightly. Solas felt a curious longing. But then his words registered and her brow furrowed, “I wouldn’t say she belongs to me, if anything I belong to her. But she’s my companion, if that’s what you are asking.”

“Well she has terrible manners.” That startled a bark of a laugh out of Winter. It sounded weird to her ears, it wasn’t something she did regularly. Solas’s lips curved slightly at the sound. “That she does, and she also has a name. This is Commander Zelda.” Solas raised a brow, “Commander?” Winter blushed again. “She’s so pushy, I started calling her that as a joke and it stuck. Plus she’s really good at getting what she wants.” Solas nodded and in a dry tone “Yes she is” Winter risked a glance up again. “So what did she do to you?”

Solas looked at her face, once again getting caught in her eyes. Too soon they darted away from his. He swallowed, “Well, she has been knocking items off my desk….she walked through paint and left a trail to be cleaned….randomly attacks….she left a dead mouse in my room…and stole an apple” He had ticked each offense off one of his fingers. He noticed with interest her face got pinker and pinker with each one, and when got to the apple she had grabbed her pocket protectively. She looked into his eyes again. “Oh…well…I’m sorry about that. I can try and keep more of an eye on her but she sort of has a mind of her own. Does what she wants.” She gestured down at her leg, and looked away shame faced “And I’m not exactly in the best shape to chase her down.”

Solas leaned against the half-wall, “How did you hurt your leg?” He found himself more and more intrigued by the unusual elf. Her eyes darted to his again, quizzically, and away again. Since standing was painful, she sat on the half-wall as well, despite how it put her closer to him. “In the fall of Haven. The trek to Skyhold exacerbated the injury.”  
“And you haven’t been to see the healers…?”  
Winter shrugged, “There’s people with worse injuries than mine. I’d hate to take up resources from someone else who really needed it” Solas regarded her thoughtfully, not sure if he was getting the whole truth or not, and still not sure why he cared. He heard himself offering, to his own surprise. “Well, then do you mind if I take a look? My healing magic isn’t enough that I would be an asset in the the tents, but I still might be able to help.”

The scared look flitted over her face again, but it was gone so fast he wasn’t sure if he had really seen it. Winter shook her head, “No, it’s okay, I’ve taken up too much of your time already” She glanced at the sky, “I really should get started on my duties” She made a move to get going, but her leg chose that moment to collapse and she fell back down on the half-wall, hard.

Solas just watched her with a brow raised. Slowly Winter nodded, defeated, not looking at him. “Alright, if you insist. But I’m not sure why you would be helping me after my cat terrorized you for days” Solas shrugged, not that she could see, “She has only been terrorizing me for three days. You’ve had her much longer, thus you have my sympathy” Winter gave another startled bark of laughter, “Fair enough” She turned toward him and gestured toward her leg. “If you must” She shot him a quick, slight smile. Solas climbed over the half-wall, and crouched before her. He looked up into her face “Winter, look at me” Winter met his gaze, coloring slightly again. “I’m going to gently touch your leg, and use some slight magic, if you feel any weird sensations, that’s what it is. Do not be alarmed”.

Winter tilted her head to the side and nodded. He started up by her hip, and slowly ran his hands down her limb. He was focused intently on what he was doing, so she felt safe enough to openly stare at him. She noticed he had the cutest freckles on his nose. His hands buzzed slightly, and left a trail of heat down her leg wherever he touched her, even through her armor. She found the situation strangely titillating. And when his magic eased some of the ache and hurt in her leg, she couldn’t keep herself from gasping, then moaning in relief and closing her eyes. It was the first time in weeks the pain was gone.

Solas glanced up when Winter sucked in a breath, and when she closed her eyes and moaned, he felt a shot of heat hit his groin. He swallowed and got back to the task at hand. After her moan he was finding it very hard to concentrate. He realized she had very shapely legs, and they were very firm under his ministrations. He slowed his movements, enjoying the feel of her. However, when he got to her ankle he frowned. There was a shadow there, something that was making the healing go much slower than it should. He figured the pain in the joint was causing her to walk wrong, causing the muscles to twist and spasm. He had just fixed her upper leg, he didn't want it to just get messed up again from a bad ankle. He gently probed it with his magic; not wanting to just blast it with power and risk blowing her leg off. 

He withdrew his magic and sat back on his heels, thoughtfully regarding the appendage. He was frankly glad for something to take his mind off running his hands over her body, as it was causing some wildly inappropriate thoughts. She had opened her eyes when he stopped and was staring at him, her eyes dark with…something. When she saw the slight frown on his face, her own eyes cleared and her brows furrowed. “What is it? Am I going to lose the leg?” She tried hedging a joke, his serious expression was making her nervous. Solas didn’t lose the thoughtful look on his face. “I’m not sure, but something’s wrong. Have you, by chance, run afoul of any mages? Someone who would curse you?”

Winter thought hard, but nothing came to mind. She avoided the others, she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to curse her when she left them all alone. “Not that I remember. I don’t really have much to do with other people…”

Solas sighed, “Well someone has cast…something. This will require research. Would you care to accompany me up to library?” Winter swallowed, there were always lots of people in the library, but this was important. Until her leg healed she was stuck here, and if being around others for awhile would get her out of her faster, she would just have to suck it up. “I suppose if it will get me up and about quicker, I can’t exactly say no can I?” Solas offered a slight smile, “Well you could, but it would be unwise.” he stood up and gallantly offered her his hand, not sure if she would be able to make the trek on her bum leg, and not trusting her to actually show up if he didn’t accompany her. The mystery of her had just deepened and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. 

Winter debated taking his offer or not, but common sense won out. She needed help if she was going to make it to the library in any reasonable amount of time. And if she didn’t go with him, she might chicken out and just take her chances on her own. She tentatively reached out and grasped his hand. He gently helped pull her to her feet. She was still a bit unsteady and pitched forward into him, surprised to find he was very solid under his knit tunic. She felt another blush stain her cheeks. She pushed back and felt his hands on her shoulders steadying her. Once she had regained her balance, Solas picked her up. Winter squeaked in surprise and clung to him. “Are you sure I’m not too heavy? I can walk!” Solas cast her an amused look, “It’s fine, and we will be much quicker this way.” Zelda had disappeared again in the meantime. He headed toward the Keep. 

Winter reached up and put her hat back low over her eyes, and kept her eyes on the ground. She could feel the eyes of keep inhabitants on them, curious about who Solas, whom was known for his solitary nature, was carrying. 

Solas too noticed people staring, and noticed Winter’s reaction, “Why do you hide your face?” Winter peeked up at him, “I don’t like to be noticed. When they see my face, people tend to come up with excuses to talk to me, and I want to avoid that. Between the human males who view me as a conquest, the elves who are only interested in trying to ferret out what clan I came from, so they can judge if I’m worthy of their time or not, to the human women who just want to sharpen their tongues on me; no situation is appealing” Solas felt his lips quirk again, she was mordant, and he liked it. “I’ve just got them used to seeing me limp around her and stop noticing me, seeing me with you while carrying me up to the keep is likely to start the tongues wagging again, and I’ll have to work harder to stay out of sight.”

“Well, if I can cure your leg, you’ll at least be able to move a lot quicker to get away from them.” He was gratified to hear her chuckle, “Hopefully. Once my leg is healed, I won’t be stuck around here, I can be out in the field where I belong” Solas was silent a moment, found himself wanting to know more about her, “Why did you join the Inquisition?” He felt her shrug her shoulders, “Why does anyone join any cause? Saving the world seemed as good as reason as any.” She suddenly stopped him, stiffened and looked around, right as something flew by them and hit the wall. Another step and it would have hit her in the head. The Iron Bull came ran up, puffing, “Ah Ha! Sorry about that, got away during training!” He bent and picked up a helmet, turned and shouted “Tell the recruit I got his helmet! Well, when he wakes up!” He hurled the helmet back down to where the Chargers and a few others had been practicing, but were now watching them with interest. 

Bull turned and looked for the first time at who was almost taken out by the helmet in question. “Solas! Didn’t expect to see you out of your tower! And with a lady!” A lewd grin spread across his face. Winter kept her head down. Solas scowled at Bull, who wasn’t focused on him. “I’m aiding this young woman.” Bull looked the scout over, his eye missing nothing, including her injured leg, “To the healing tents?” Solas smoothed his expression, “Not exactly. Her injury is a little more complicated than that and we were on our way to the library.” Bull turned and surveyed the stairs, then swung back around to eye the Scout again. “Never gonna happen, let me help.” Winter shrank into Solas’s side, gripping his arm tightly, not wanting to touch Bull and see his future. She had managed to stay out of sight for weeks, and within a day had somehow attracted the attention of two of the Inquisitor’s inner circle. “I think we can manage.”

“Oh come on, we all know that’s not true. From the looks of it you’ve had that injury for awhile now, meaning your muscles are going to be slightly atrophied. And its going to hurt like hell like whole way up if you try and walk it. And you’re too long for him to easily maneuver up all those stairs and hallways. A friend of Solas is a friend of mine!” Bull didn’t want to admit outright he was intrigued by the little Elf, the only things Solas had taken to were the Inquisitor, whom he pretended not to, and Cole, the odd Spirit/human hybrid. He wanted to know what made this Elf maid so special. 

“Just let me carry you up and it’ll be over before you know it, it’s the least I can do after almost creaming you with the helmet. Nice reflexes by the way.” He saw the tips of her ears redden slightly. Solas interjected smoothly “Bull you are making her uncomfortable, we can manage just fine on our own.” Solas realized he didn’t like the thought of Winter in Bull’s arms, and he did like her warmth pressed into his chest. Bull had made his way through many of the women and men around the keep, and hated to think of Winter as being another causality under his spell. But with her being so tall and in armor, he didn’t want to risk falling down the stairs carrying her himself. He was loathe to admit he didn’t want to risk it.

 

“If you don’t want to let her go, I understand Solas. And if you want, I can just carry you both up.”  
Winter tried to think of another way around this, but saw no other options. She slithered out of Solas’s arms and sighed, already missing his warmth. Bull wasn’t going to relent, and she wanted at least the illusion of control of the situation. “Fine, I will allow you to help me up the stairs.” Bull’s face split into a wide grin and without preamble he scooped up Winter and headed off, “Spar amongst yourself until I get back Chargers!” He yelled as he started up the long staircase. 

Solas followed close behind, on Bull’s blindside, working to keep his expression calm and composed. For her part, Winter saw only one small vision, and it was of The Iron Bull and Dorian, another of the Inquisitor’s inner circle, sharing a passionate embrace. It caused her blush to deepen, to see him in such an intimate moment with a lover. Bull misread her flush, “I know, it’s not every day you get to be carried around in the arms of a Dashing Qunari. So what’s your name anyway?” Winter, relaxed now that the vision part of meeting him was over, pushed her hat back and looked up into his face. Bull raised a brow when they locked eyes but didn’t comment. Maybe Solas was more flesh and blood than he liked to admit, the Scout was beautiful.  
“I’m Winter.”  
“And who are you Winter?”  
She tilted her head, “No one of consequence”  
“I find that hard to believe; I must know”  
“Get used to disappointment”  
Bull threw back his head and laughed. She may have appeared meek, but she had some fire hidden under her shy exterior.  
“An enigma eh? No matter, sooner or later I’ll figure it out. How do you and Solas know each other?”  
She gave him her most mysterious smile, “A cat introduced us” Bull laughed again. “You’re almost as bad as he is, never says straight what he can say sideways. Is it a mage thing?” Winter rolled her eyes, aware he was prying, “Unlikely, seeing as how I’m no mage”  
“Ah, so it’s an Elf thing”  
Winter crossed her arms, “This may surprise you, but not everyone wants to spill their life story to the first person who asks.”  
“That is surprising, most people I can’t get to stop talking about themselves.” He switched topics “So how did you hurt your leg?”  
Winter huffed, “In the Fall of Haven” Bull gave her a curious look, “But that was weeks ago, surely it should be better by now?” Winter gave him a miserable look, “Hence why we are going to the library. Something is not right apparently.”  
“Well what did the healers say?” Winter squirmed a bit, “Nothing really, as I haven’t exactly …been to see them.”  
Bull gave her a look, “Any particular reason you didn’t want to get better?”  
“The body is designed to heal, I figured it would work itself out in the end!”  
“Oh I get it…you don’t trust mages. You’re falling in with the wrong crowd if that’s the case.”  
“You think I don’t know that?” Winter hissed, “I’m not even supposed to be here, and I can’t exactly run away” She gestured to her leg. She got a sudden flash of Bull telling her Solas wasn’t the bad sort, he seemed harmless enough as far as mages went. And how trusted he was with the Inquisitor. In the whirlwind of the day, she forgot to be cautious, “I know all that!” She continued in a low voice, “If the Inquisitor trusts him that should be all the voucher I need. But I can’t help how I feel.”  
Bull was giving her a strange look, “I didn’t say anything.”  
Winter once more felt her blood rush to her face. Thankfully they had reached the top of the stairs. She studiously avoided Bull’s eye, pretending to be interested in her surroundings. 

Even with his Elf hearing, Solas couldn’t really make out what was being said in front of him. But every time Bull threw back his head and laughed he grit his teeth. He didn’t want him to be charmed by Winter. He recognized he was feeling jealous, but couldn’t seem to snap out of it. Or figure out why it bothered him that she would get along with the big brute. 

When they passed by Varric on the way to the library, he whistled, not seeing Solas behind Bull, “Who’s the lucky lady Bull? And why did you bring her all the way up here? Finally run out of spots down below?” Bull grinned, “Actually, this one belongs to Solas.”  
“Chuckles?! Where did he meet a woman?”  
“Apparently a cat introduced them.”  
Varric started laughing loudly. “So she’s who that cute little kitten that’s been plaguing him belongs to?”  
Bull’s grin grew, “So a cat did introduce them!” He laughed again. “This day keeps getting better and better” Winter put her face in one hand. There was no way now she was ever going to sink back into anonymity again. With her luck Varric would have an entire 20 verse song composed about the whole thing.  
Bull continued up the stairs, and made his way over to a table, his aim to deposit Winter on the bench by it. Before setting her down, he couldn’t resist teasing her one last time, and by extension, Solas. “Well Winter, this is where we part ways. Unless you enjoyed it so throughly in my arms you wish a repeat.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively. 

Winter laughed in spite of herself. She found herself liking the Bull, and couldn’t resist teasing him a bit back. She didn’t get the opportunity often. She leaned in close to his ear, “Soft pass. Besides, I’m not who you really want in your bed,” her gaze flicked to the side, where Dorian was pretending to not notice them. She leaned in closer and whispered, “He wants you too.” Then pulled back and winked. Bull’s eye widened a fraction, before giving Winter an appraising look as he put her down. He turned into Solas’s carefully blank face, but could see the tension he was holding around his eyes thanks to his Ben-Hassrath training. Oh yea, Solas was definitely interested in the Scout. And not just as a magic project like he was pretending.

Winter ignored the men shooting various looks all over, instead gazing around the library. So far, actual interactions with people hadn’t been so bad. Maybe she didn’t have to be so guarded with everyone after all. But then again, maybe she had just happened upon the rare few people who she could tolerate. The visions had even been to a minimum, she would have to be more careful in conversations, but she didn’t see anything crushing happening to her. Yet.

While she had been examining her surroundings, Bull turned to go, before turning back once more, “Hey Wint, if you get tired of these stuffy old book-types trying to cure you, you’re welcome to join us in the Tavern for a pint. And if you need assistance getting down there” He gave her a mock bow, “I will be happy to offer my services again. My arms will wait for the chance to gently cup your body again” Winter rolled her eyes and offered him a half smile, “Thank you for the invite, but I think I may be here awhile. You’re arms will just have to keep waiting.” Bull laughed again and left, calling a greeting to Dorian, who's eyes had followed him out. Winter felt her lip curl into a slight smirk. She hoped she had helped set that along. 

She finally turned to Solas, who’s face was cool indifference. She smoothed her face into the same expression. The silence stretched on and Winter found herself actually hoping for a vision, to gain some insight into what he was thinking. She was debating reaching out and grabbing him to see if she could jar one, when she heard a voice. “Where do we start?” Solas’s eyes shifted back into focus, giving himself a mental shake. He was bristling at Bull’s offer of companionship, and the sub offer of being more. He didn’t know what she had whispered to the big Qunari, but it had to be something for him to make such a suggestion. He turned towards Dorian, who had been the one to speak. 

“WE are not starting anything. This Scout has an unusual problem that I will be helping her with. We didn’t mean to interrupt you.” Dorian gave him a cheerful smile, “Nonsense Solas! I wasn’t doing anything of importance, and would be glad to lend my vast expertise to the issue at hand! Now, what exactly are we dealing with?”  
The two stood there, debating how to get rid of the other, when Winter cut in. “It seems I may have run afoul of a mage, and they’ve cursed my leg into not healing properly”  
“Ah! She speaks! Wonderful, let me take a look” And without waiting for an invitation he came over and began running his hands down her leg. “My name is Dorian by the way.” Winter gave him a scathing look, “Wrong leg. And I’m Winter”  
Dorian gave her a winsome smile, “Of course it is and of course you are, but whoever cast this may have put a latent curse in your other as well, we should do a whole scan to see where the source of this is” Winter raised her brows, “So you are more than just a pretty face”  
“Of course my dear, the pretty face is just a perk.” He made quick work of scanning her with his magic, with Solas off to the side, his face unreadable. Winter grit her teeth against Dorian’s hands, they did nothing for her and she kept getting glimpses of his past, and she was sure they were not things he would want anyone to know. For the first time she felt maybe she was better off not knowing her parents. 

Finally Dorian was done, and was just holding her hurt ankle, probing the shadow hidden there. “Well it seems to be just the one leg, so thank the Maker for that. Whoever it was the did curse you, they didn’t want you to die, just be out of commission for awhile.” Winter gave him a sarcastic smile, “Ah yes, I am so very thankful whoever cursed me only wanted me to suffer, not die.”  
“There’s that Elf wit I’ve heard so much about. Hard to imagine anyone wanting to hurt you, with your overabundance of charm.”  
“Can you fix it, or do you intend to sass it away?”  
Solas felt his lips twitch, clearly Winter’s shy nature didn’t mean she was a pushover.  
But Dorian was frowning into her ankle, “I am not sure, this is curious and will require a bit of research.” Winter groaned, “That’s the general consensus.”  
Winter felt the stirring of fear in her belly. If it was so serious that the sarcastic Vint couldn’t be bothered with a retort, something must seriously be wrong.  
Solas finally spoke up, “What were your impressions on the curse?”  
And then the two of them began discussing magic, and walked away from Winter, she was glad. All the mumbo jumbo was giving her a headache. Soon they were on separate sides of the library, calling out suggestions to the other. 

And Winter was bored. She debated hopping over to a bookshelf to get something to read, but when she had stood up, Solas had appeared at her side, and told her she needed to rest so not to mess up her leg further. “I am not a child..”  
“Exactly, you are an adult so you understand that you need to sit still and not risk further injury until we know the nature of the curse” Winter had no choice but to sit back down with a sigh. Not when he was going to use reason and logic on her. 

She pulled out her daggers and started doing tricks with them. She started off easy with some rolling inverts, going to trigger flips, to eventually spinning the dagger on her hand. She didn’t notice that Solas kept glancing over at her. The other patrons of the library also kept shooting her quizzical looks. When she was spinning a dagger on her finger she heard a disapproving cough. She palmed the blade and looked over at a Chantry Sister shaking her head at her. Feeling like a scolded child, she put her blades away, and slumped against the wall. Maybe she could get lost in the future for the time being. No one was paying her any attention anyway. She was about to zone out when she heard Solas speak.  
“Maybe this is a result of Blood Magic. I am surprised you do not practice blood magic, Dorian. Is it not popular in Tevinter?”Dorian’s voice was dry, “While we’re sharing surprises, you’ve done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected”  
“Tevinter lore about elves remains accurate as always”  
Dorian sighed dreamily, “I wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song, just once.”  
Solas just grunted at him.  
“And besides, I don’t think the answer to our problem lies with blood magic”  
Winter giggled, “Who among us hasn’t danced naked in the moonlight?” Dorian laughed “Fair point from a Fair Maiden.” Winter stuck our her tongue at him.  
Solas gave her an appraising eye. Winter willed her cheeks not to flush, and then in a bold moment, winked at him. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall again, wondering what had gotten into her. Most assumed she had no personality because she was so solitary, but she figured since she was in it, she might as well let her quirks out before she went back to her self-imposed exile to the wilds. Plenty time to be lonely and solemn later. 

Eventually it was dinnertime, and Winter was bored to tears. She pulled the apple out of her pocket and began cutting the peel off in one long, thin strip. She didn’t notice when Dorian came and sat down across from her, watching her hands. Solas had disappeared, and the other library patrons were on the other side of the tower or had cleared out for the night, unnerved by the magical discussion and barbs thrown about by the two mages.  
“You’re very skilled with those” Winter paused a moment, glanced up at Dorian with a slight smile, then continued to peel the apple. “Thank you, I’ve worked hard to become so.” He lifted a brow, and Winter glanced at him again. “Oh don’t raise a brow at me. Modesty is a human construct the Chantry tries to force on people to keep them easily malleable. I’ve put a lot of effort into being an excellent rogue. Why would I not be proud of that? Why try and diminish my accomplishments? So other people’s are more comfortable with their mediocrity?”  
“I am the last person you will ever hear preaching the virtues of modesty. It was just nice to hear someone else who wasn’t taken in by this humble nonsense.”  
Winter snorted, “I’m sure between all you higher ups, there isn’t much ‘humble nonsense’, as you put it.”  
“Higher ups?”

Winter rolled her eyes, “Don’t play coy, we both know you’re bad at it. You people are leading the Inquisition. Sure the Inquisitor is at the helm, with her three advisors right behind her, but after them, all of you companions are who hold the most influence. You are her closet friends, and have her ear. And not one of you is modest.” She paused, considering, “Well except maybe the strange one, Cole. But that could be more because he doesn’t understand boasting. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have defended my lack of modesty to you.”  
Dorian cocked his head and considered the pale elf. “So Winter, who are you?” Winter gave the mage a glare. “It hasn’t been a day and that is the third time I have been asked that question. I’m sick of it.”  
“Well Solas is a solitary elf, and besides you, there are only two other beings anyone has ever seen him willingly spend time with. Like it or not, you are going to be a source of gossip and intrigue. And now you’ve been seen with me! The loathsome Vint Mage! Not to mention The Iron Bull carried you up here in his arms, with a very petulant Solas following behind. No dear, I’m afraid you’re infamous now. People are going to wonder who you are, and what it is about you that have captured the attention of so many of the Inquisitor’s allies.”  
Winter groaned and set down her apple and dagger, so she could put her face in her hands. From under them she said, “I’m just a Scout. No one important. I joined because I was just wandering aimlessly through the wilds. I was bored! I wasn’t doing anything.” She put her hands down, looked up, and met his eyes, and he had to blink against the intensity of her gaze, he didn’t realize she had violet orbs and it was slightly unsettling, “I’m a good Scout; one of the best. I’m happiest out in the field causing mayhem. I avoid others, I have no idea why anyone would even want to curse me, nor why any of you would even want to help me out.”  
“Well as for myself, I enjoy a good mystery, I’m bored, and it’s too early to drink, so here we are”  
“Why is it too early to drink? I know I could go for one” Dorian smiled, “Perhaps after we unravel your mystery.”  
Neither noticed Solas come up, and when he cleared his throat Dorian gave a theatrical jump, “Ah, Solas. You startled me. You’re always so …nondescript.”  
Without skipping a beat Solas said, “Please speak up! I cannot hear you over your outfit!”  
Winter burst out laughing. Dorian looked between her and Solas, noticing how Solas’s face softened a fraction and Winter’s face relaxed as she grinned up at him. He mumbled, “No one important indeed.” Before he went off in search of dinner himself. He noted the pail Solas had brought and decided he would give them some privacy. 

Solas made a gesture towards the table, and Winter moved her legs and nodded, indicating that he was welcome to sit next to her. “I thought you might be hungry, and could use a break”  
Winter pulled a face, “A break from sitting here doing nothing? I would love to step outside and….” She trailed off at the look of his face. “How long is this going to take? What are we going to do when I have to break water? Bathe? Will I get married and live my life at this table? Have children here? Am I to die here?” Winter realized she may be a bit hysterical, but she had had a very trying day. She wasn’t used to so many people badgering her. Playing with others was not her strongest, most developed suit, “What if, I chop off my leg, and just give it to you? Can I go then?” She picked up her knife, stabbed it into the peeled apple, and took a big bite, glaring at him.  
“Winter, don’t be ridiculous, you’ll never meet someone to marry and procreate with at this table. You lack the equipment Dorian prefers and the rest of the library patrons are women.”  
Winter laughed in spite of herself, almost spitting apple all over him but managing to keep it in her mouth. She swallowed, “Alright, I know I’m being a little crazy. I just am sick of being cooped up. And interrogated. Even when I was hobbling along on a bad leg, I could do it where I wanted. People ignore you when you’re crippled. Makes them feel bad about having two working legs or something.”  
“You’ll be able to hobble along anywhere you want again as soon as we figure out who cursed you with what and how to get rid of it.” He couldn’t resist asking, “Where would you go?”  
Winter took the apple off the end of the dagger, wiped the blade on her tunic, before shoving it back into her the top of her boot.  
“Fine, I’ll be civilized and communicate. If you are going to be completely rational against my madness, it makes it no fun.”  
“I disagree, I was having fun”

Winter grinned, then considered his question, “I would go….anywhere I want, imagine the possibilities.” She shot him a look, “after the Inquisition of course.” She sighed, “You know I miss running. Just…running until I can’t anymore. Pushing myself to the limit until I collapse with exhaustion. And fighting. Kicking the shit out of someone. Testing my mettle against another being. Putting my body through the paces until every muscle is sore and just so gloriously alive.” She grew thoughtful, “And swimming. I discovered some hot springs hidden deep in a cave in Emprise du Lion. Just, the thought of stripping down and soaking while the gentle heat relaxes all your nerves, reducing you to a puddle. Then rolling in the snow for the shock of it. The contrast. Now I’m happy if I shift in my bedroll without crying out in pain” She blinked, and then looked embarrassed.  
“Ugh I made a speech. I hate speeches.”  
Solas was regarding her curiously, “But a very illuminating speech it was. You value your freedom very highly. And have some unusual bathing habits.”  
She took another bite of apple, cursing herself for revealing so much. She cocked her head, “Doesn’t everyone value freedom? Who likes to be trapped?”  
“You’d be surprised. Some people like the comfort of not having any choices.”  
Winter shook her head, “I don’t get it. I think if I was ever truly trapped into something, or captured as a slave, I’d kill myself.”  
Solas raised a brow, and Winter relented, “Well, after trying to kill whoever was fool enough to try and enslave me, and running away failed.”  
“You think it would be so easy? To break the bonds of slavery?”  
“Of course it wouldn’t, but I’d rather die fighting then living on my knees.”  
“You wouldn’t wait for the situation to change? Someone to help?”  
Winter snorted, “Who’s going to help me? A Elf with no Vallaslin? I’d be more than invisible. I might as well be a chair that could sometimes talk for all that people would pay me any attention. And that’s if I was a lucky slave. There would be no help.”  
“No one to miss you?”  
Winter gave him a look, “Oh, you are very sneaky. Get me talking, about seemingly random things, hoping I’ll let something slip. That’s enough prying into my mind for one day, thanks.” She thought about what she had said and colored slightly, she had let a lot slip.  
Solas’s lips twitched. She had revealed much, but now she was onto his tricks.  
Winter leaned toward him, “Let’s talk about you now. Why do you wear a wolf jaw?”  
He gave her a blank look, and before he could stop her, Winter leaned forward further and touched it. Her eyes opened wide when she saw a glimpse of…something. Solas, with some other Elvhen. He was removing their Vallaslins with a spell, telling them they were no longer slaves. 

She blinked it and it was gone, but she couldn’t get the wide eyed look off her face. She yanked her hand back as if burned, and the momentum of the movement pressed her up against the wall.  
Solas looked from her to his necklace and back, trying to make sense of what just occurred. “Are you okay?” Given the expression on her face, he thought it best not to touch her. Winter shook her head, hard, “It’s nothing.” She had no idea if what she saw was past or future, but something about the scene was ominous, it left the taste of sorrow on her tongue. It was a stark reminder as to why she avoided people. It was increasingly hard to pretend to be normal. And he definitely noticed. She would think about the implications of it later. He knew the Vallaslin were slave markings too, but how? And he could remove them?? She forced the thoughts from her mind. 

“So…bum leg. Now that dinner is over, more research? To get me up and going? I should be going. Oh look, Dorian’s back, Hi Dorian!” Winter knew she was rambling, but she had to do something. Solas was looking at her too intently. She could practically see the questions he was getting ready to ask. She was going to have to be doubly careful now. She had somehow started this day anonymous, and ended up the item of too much curiosity for her liking.  
“Finally, someone is expressing the proper reaction to my entering a room. I was beginning to think all you people really did have bad taste all around, instead of just in clothes.”  
When he got a good look at them, he reconsidered if he should have come back up here with this plan. But Winter was looking at him like he was a lifeline and Solas was looking at him like he was intruding. Winter won out, she seemed sweet and if she didn’t want to be alone with the intense Elf, she probably had good reason.  
“I just came back up to say that we’ve been in this library for hours. It’s late, and I think we could all use some relaxing time. Winter, would you like to accompany me to the Tavern? Solas, you are welcome to join as well if you wish.”  
Solas cleared his throat and glanced at Winter, “Actually I was thinking of doing more research while there aren’t so many distractions around.”  
Winter got slowly to her foot, keeping the cursed one off the ground. “I count myself as one of those distractions, so I would love to go to the Tavern with you Dorian.”  
Solas gave a slight frown, “And how do you plan on getting all the way down there without walking?”  
Dorian smiled toothily, “I brought reinforcements!” He turned and called down the stairs, “She’s on board Bull! Come up and get her.”  
The Iron Bull appeared shortly at the top of the stairs. He gave Winter a huge smile, “I knew it was only a matter of time until you were in my arms again.”  
Winter rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes you are a very sexy male. This whole thing is a clever ruse just to be close to you once more. It was all this whole thing was ever about. Giving me an in so that I could share your bed”  
“Yes, because we all know how ineffective the word ‘Hi’ is when said to you” Solas may or may not have been sulking. Something had happened with Winter and he wanted to get to know what. Her decision to flee just made him that much more determined. He allowed himself to pretend it was to try and figure out why someone would curse her. 

When Bull scooped up Winter again she cast him one last unreadable look over his shoulder, Solas just pressed his lips and put his hands behind his back. He really did want to do some research while the library was deserted, he was just hoping it would be deserted with her. As the trio left, he heard Varric join them on the way down. The three men were talking excitedly, trying to bring her more out of her shell. 

Solas turned and surveyed the empty room. He took a deep breath and started toward the nearest shelf. He didn’t notice Lelianna leaning over the railing on the next level until she spoke up, “Your girl is very interesting.” Solas glanced her way, “She’s not ‘my’ anything.” But Lelianna gave him a slight smile. “Perhaps I am mistaken. Who is she?” Solas turned and gave her a slight confused look, “She simply goes by Winter. She’s a scout. Currently out of commission due to her leg injury.” Lelianna shook her head, “She looks familiar, but I think I would remember a colorless, Vallaslin-less, Elf Scout. But with the rate the Inquisition has grow, knowing them all personally is impossible.”  
Solas was giving her an unreadable look. He didn’t bring up that Winter had said she was among the first to join, and that Lelianna should have known exactly who she was. Instead he found himself impressed that she had slipped one over on the Spymaster. The mystery of Winter just continued to deepen. 

And it was a mystery he intended to solve.


	2. You think you know a guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And because I do what I want, Winter sings songs that have yet to be written and may or may not be from music I listen to. A perk of being a Seer, somewhat of an internal radio. Also because that shit gets stuck in my head. Here’s the youtube thing of the one in this chapter. It’s amazing.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4oInT79CUk  
> I changed the lyrics a bit just to fit in more with the times. And then made it that she wrote it. 
> 
> Da’len means little child
> 
> I love the Iron Bull and him and Winter will tolerate the slurs from each other. Someone else…not so much. At least Winter won’t. Water off a ducks back to Bull.

Winter had managed to get Bull to stop off at the privy before going to the tavern. But no matter how much she protested she couldn’t convince him, Varric, or Dorian to take her somewhere to sleep, that she needed to rest.  
“You’ve done nothing but rest since you got that injury! A little camaraderie and drinking is just what the healer ordered! And as one of your healers, I’m ordering it!” She really couldn’t argue with Dorian’s logic. Especially when he refused to listen to her. 

She felt herself grow more and more apprehensive the closer they got to the loud, lit up building. In that space there were so many bodies that touching others was going to be unavoidable. She only hoped that she could back herself into a corner or keep near enough to one of the guys that it would discourage people from talking to her or worse.

When they came in through the door, the pub went silent. Winter scrunched down in Bull’s arms, keenly aware that every eye was on them. After a few seconds - which seemed to last an eternity to Winter - someone called out from the back, “Hey Bull! You’ve got it backwards! You LEAVE the bar with the lady in your arms, not bring her in!”

The words were met with loud laughter, of which Bull joined in, “How would you know Krem, I’ve yet to see you do either!” Krem laughed along with everyone else, and the odd tension seemed to be lifted. Bull made his way to the Chargers, deposited Winter among the series of tables they occupied, then went to get some tankards. Dorian had settled down next to her companionably, then immediately started talking with a pale elf who was part of the Chargers at the next table. It sounded like more magic talk; they were talking too low for her to hear properly, even if they were right next to her. Varric had gotten drawn into a conversation at the bar.

Winter was doing a hard study of the ground, still acutely aware of too many eyes on her for her liking. She was also in too close proximity to too many people. She kept getting rapid fire images in her head. Too fast and too many for any to make sense; it was highly annoying. After a few moments they lessened, and she was able to relax a margin. It was around this time that Bull had made his way back with a tankard the size of a small barrel to Winter’s wide eyes, and slammed it down in front of her. “Drink up!”

Winter looked from the giant cup, still sloshing frothy ale on the edges, to Bull, her mouth agape. “I’ll never be able to drink all that! It’s half my body weight.” Bull grinned, “That’s the challenge! You’ve had a rough day, this will take the edge off!” Winter gave him a look but tentatively took a sip of the drink, having to lift the huge container with both hands. She coughed and sputtered, “Ugh, you can use this to peel paint!”  
“Yes, it’s good isn’t it? Cabot’s finest, strongest, ale!”  
Winter began to have other fears creep in, suddenly seeing someone’s future seemed to be the least of her worries. She had never been drunk before, and had no idea how that would go. She closed her eyes and tried to see her immediate future, but nothing came. She sighed, what’s the point of being a Seer if her own future was a mystery so much of the time?  
One of the Chargers leaned forward to introduce themselves. It was the one who had made the comment before, a handsome man with short brown hair, “Hello, I’m Cremisius Aclassi, Krem if it suites.” He held out his hand. Winter took a drink, then put down her ridiculous tankard of ale and took his hand. She saw a glimpse of fighting, Krem’s guard all wrong, and him getting hit too hard from the left side, knocking him down as someone closed in for a killing blow. Winter gasped, back in the present. She pretended it was the ale, rather than her Sight making her act weird. She released Krem’s hand, “I’m Winter. I think I’ve seen you around.”

Krem grunted, “Yes, I’m second-in-command of the Chargers. You’ve probably seen me out practicing with them.” Winter nodded, then took a leap, “You should work on your guard on your left, you’re a little weak on that side.” She ducked her head even lower, realizing how rude she sounded, “Sorry, just something I noticed.” But Krem gave her a friendly grin, “No, you’re right. Bull’s been saying the same thing for awhile now. I’ll be sure to work on that. So Winter, what do you do?”

Winter glanced up at him shyly from under her lashes, but kept her head down. She caught another glimpse, this time of the same scene as before but instead of Krem being beaten to the ground, he was able to successfully block, and he ran his sword through the attacker. Winter relaxed a bit. She could do this (but maybe it was the alcohol finally starting to get to her), “I’m a Scout. But a bit of unfortunate events have led me to being stuck here while trying to heal. I’m not supposed to walk”  
“Well that explains the big guy carrying you around today.”  
“Yes, it was very kind and unnecessary of him”  
Krem snorted, “That’s sort of his personal motto ‘Kind but unnecessary’ I like it.”  
“What else has he done to earn it?”  
“Well, he came across me in another Tavern on the Tevinter border about to be made an example. He lost his eye in the fight, but gained my gratitude and loyalty. Can’t imagine anyone else willing to lose an eye for a stranger, not to mention he earned no love from the tribune.”

Winter realized her mouth was open, and snapped it shut. She took another gulp of the horrible concoction, which was really starting to grow on her, as she considered what she had just heard. Her opinion of Bull rose several degrees, lewdness aside.  
“Me either, I like both my eyes in my head where I can see with them.”  
Krem laughed at the joke, “Well I can see why he likes you…” He trailed off, because Winter had finally straightened up all the way and lifted her hat back a bit, finally meeting his eyes.

Winter rubbed at her face, “What, do I have something on me?” Krem shook his head, “No, nothing. You just….” Clearly uncomfortable, he pointed to his eye.  
“Oh, you didn’t expect my eyes to be so spooky? Yea, I get that a lot.”  
Krem colored slightly, “No, not spooky, well maybe a little, but they’re pretty”  
Winter felt herself blush a deep red, and took another mouthful of drink, “Thanks, I think?”

“I didn’t mean any insult, it’s just such an unusual color. Is it common in your clan?”  
Winter could sense no ulterior motives in him, so she answered, “I’ve never met anyone else who has even a similar color.”  
“Not even your parents?”  
“Do you look exactly like your parents?”  
Krem grinned, “I suppose some would say I look a lot like my father, but it wasn’t always the case” His smile invited her to share the joke, but for the life of her Winter had no idea what it was.  
A commotion across the bar grabbed her attention, Sera, the other elf with the Inquisitor, had downed her drink, then smashed the tankard into the face of man next to her, “Arse-biscuit! Keep your bits to yourself unless you want arrows in’em!”

Sera made her way over, muttering and casting dark looks over her shoulder.  
“Stupid pissers. Always with their grabby hands. Wait till I stuff bees in their bedrolls.” She plopped down next to Winter, then gave her the up-down, “Who’re’you? I hope your not too elfy. I need to get away from” She made a vague, rude gesture across the bar.

Winter gave her a thoughtful look, “I have no idea on what that means, but if you think I’m going to start” She paused, turned to Dorian, “What is it you said you thought Elves did earlier? Bloom flowers by singing?” Dorian grinned and nodded, as Winter turned back to Sera, “singing to flowers, you can rest assured.” She missed the look Dalish gave Dorian but heard him say, “What? I was messing with Solas!”  
Sera laughed, “Solas? Pfft. His head's crammed up a thousand years ago.” Dorian gave Winter an evil grin, “Actually, he’s recently expressed an interest in current events”  
Sera flapped her hand, “Oh let me guess, some runes nearby? A long lost Elfy toothpick was discovered and he was conversating with spirits about it?”

Dorian’s grin got even wider, and Winter groaned, she didn’t even need to be clairvoyant to know where this was going. “Probably, but I was referring to he’s taken an interest in our new friend here.” Sera spit out her beer, and turned violently to give Winter another hard look, shaking her head in disgust, “The elf always takes the elf so that banging bits will mean something.”

Winter choked on her ale, her color resembling something of a tomato, “I just met him today! I don’t know how or why everyone is so interested in this, but we are definitely not banging our bits!” Sera laughed loudly, “Maybe not yet, but your face! You’ve thought about it, ya?” Winter put her head in her hands, wishing she could melt through the floor. “He’s just helping me to get better! Nothing more!”

Dorian couldn’t resist, “You should have seen it Sera, his solemness was fawning over her all day, he was practically a mother hen the way he was worrying.”  
Winter looked up and glared, “He was not!” Dorian laughed, “You are entirely too easy to tease.”  
“And you are an ass” Dorian just winked at her. Winter took another long drink of her ale, it was half gone by now, and she was definitely feeling it. She gave a sigh, “He is kind of cute though, isn’t he?” Dorian laughed, Sera eloquent response was, “Pppffffbbbbt” and Krem just shook his head before he retreated to talk with Stiches.  
Sera wasn’t done commenting after her rude noise, “If you like Elfy-eggs maybe.”  
Grasping at anything to get the discussion off her and Solas, Winter ventured, “So what do you like, if it’s not Elves”  
Sera’s face became dreamy, “Tall, dark, and horny. And like you, not like him.” Winter nodded to show she thought she understood. Then gave Dorian a sly eye, “So that’s two that have a thing for Qunari” she pointedly glanced over at Bull, who was arm wrestling bar patrons for coin.  
Dorian coughed into his wine and Sera laughed. “Didn’t see that one, but it makes sense. You like them sturdy enough to climb too. With legs like harumph”  
Winter laughed. Dorian gave Sera a withering stare “Yes legs, that’s what I consider most important in a bed partner. Nothing about whether they are a good person.”  
Sera made a rude noise, “as if that will keep you warm at night.”Bull had wandered over, and caught the tail end of the conversation, as he sat down at the small table with them, in Krem’s abandoned spot. 

“You know Dorian, you carry around this picture of the Qunari in your mind. Like you see us as this forbidden, terrible thing, and you’re inclined to do the forbidden.”  
Dorian sat up straight and gave him a disdainful look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about”  
“All I’m saying is, you ever want to explore that, my door’s always open” He winked at him.  
Dorian was flustered, “You are impossible! This is —Ugh!”  
Bull clapped him on the shoulder, “Good! I like that energy! Stoke those fires, big guy!”

They all laughed at the colors Dorian’s face was turning. Winter just relieved the attention had finally switched to someone else. She should have known it wouldn’t last.  
As Bull brought it back up, “Speaking of fires being stoked, don’t think I missed the heated glances between you and our resident” he glanced at Sera with a grin, “Egg earlier.” Winter groaned, “are we back on that? I thought we all decided that there was nothing going on, you all are crazy, and no one’s bits are banging!”  
“Well not yet anyway, but if we all play our cards right….” He winked at Dorian. 

A few cords of a song broke through the laughter, and Sera immediately scowled and cast a glare toward the source. Dorian seized the opportunity, “Looks like Maryden is attempting to woe you again.”  
“Always with the words. Words don’t mean nothing, just garbled nonsense. It’s things that count” Winter looked at her curiously when the lyrics threaded through the crowd, following the cords.

Sera was never quite an agreeable girl-  
Her tongue tells tales of rebellion.  
But she was so fast,  
And quick with her bow,  
No one quite knew where she came from.

Sera went to take a deep pull of her drink, and discovering it empty, grabbed Winter’s tankard and took a few deep gulps off of it. 

Sera was never quite the quietest girl—  
Her attacks are loud and they're joyful.  
But she knew the ways of nobler men,  
And she knew how to enrage them.

Dorian snickered, “Do you know the ways of noble men?” Sera, still chugging Winter’s ale, punched him. Dorian laughed as he rubbed his arm. 

She would always like to say,  
"Why change the past,  
When you can own this day?"  
Today she will fight,  
To keep her way.  
She's a rogue and a thief,  
And she'll tempt your fate.

Sera was never quite the wealthiest girl—  
Some say she lives in a tavern.  
But she was so sharp,  
And quick with bow—  
Arrows strike like a dragon.

Sera was never quite the gentlest girl—  
Her eyes were sharp like a razor.  
But she knew the ways of commoner men,  
And she knew just how to use them.

The song was met to a smattering of applause. Dorian raised a brow at Sera, “Tempt your fate? Are you out tempting fates? Vixen. I guess noble men aren’t your thing, but since you know the ways of the commoner ones too…” Sera growled, and Dorian answered Winter’s unasked question for her, “Our minstrel thought the best way to win Sera’s affections was through song.”  
Winter nodded, “I can see it’s working out well for her”

“When it didn’t have the desired effect, she now sings the song to vex her. Sera is one of the seven people who want to burn her lute. They are starting a group.”  
Varric walked over, “This is what happens when someone who’s not a proper bard tries and writes a love song. Everyone’s a critic. And nothings good enough.”  
Sera turned her angry eyes on him, “Course not! She’s singing empty words to fill things up! Not about stuffs that matter, but just blowing smoke up my arse!”  
Varric grinned, “Interesting turn of phrase.” Sera gave him a dark look, “Why are you here? Slumming it with us lowlies? Get your fun that way?”  
Varric looked offended, “You’ve seen nobles. You think I’d get any fun hanging out with them?”  
Sera grumbled, “Right. ‘Them’.” She set Winter’s empty tankard down and stood up. “The drink’s dry, I have to see someone about some twisty bits” She was gone as quickly as she came. Varric took her empty seat.

“So now that the most anti-elf elf is gone, maybe tell us what’s going on between you and Chuckles.” Winter groaned, “How are we back to this again?!? Is there a quota to fill?! Have you all taken a vow to drive me insane!? Why are you convinced there’s something with me and Solas? Answer honestly, it’s because I can’t run away right? This is normally when people run away.”  
Varric, Dorian, and Bull chuckled, but it was Varric that answered, “Calm down Wint, just making conversation. We pick on you for a couple of reasons. 1. Because you are denying it so vehemently, it makes it fun. 2. We all voted, and it’s adorable when you blush. 3. With her Inquisitorialness gone for so long, there’s not a lot of source of light hearted gossip lately. Her budding romance with the Commander is old news, the topic of will they/won’t they exhausted. At least until she comes back and they start sighing over each other from afar again. The whole mage/Ex-Templar angle kept it going a lot longer than regular gossip stays in circulation. So that brings us to 4. The solitary, brooding, apostate, elf mage, noticing a quiet, beautiful, injured, magic less scout, to rescue her from an evil curse. Now THAT is a good story. Can’t make this shit up. And it’s happening now! Unfolding right in front of us” He made a motion with his hand, and one of the serving maids brought over some more alcohol. Winter took another long drink from hers, definitely wishing she were anywhere else but where she was. 

“So saying any of that is true, why are you helping the rumor along? What do you get out of this?”  
“You mean besides enjoyment at your expense? Boosting morale among the ranks with gossip? Making the frightening mage seem less aloof and scary with mortal problems? Getting to ruffle Chuckle’s feathers?”  
Winter groaned into her ale, “You are a shit friend”  
“But the important part is you count me among your friends”  
Winter laughed in spite of herself, “Maybe, I don’t know. I was talking about him. I’ve never had a friend” The drink was making her too honest.  
Dorian, Bull, and Varric all froze and looked at her, but Winter was drinking from her tankard again.  
She looked up at their silence, “What?” then rolled her eyes, “Let’s not make a deal of this. I’m a Scout that spends most of my time out in the wilds alone. I don’t exactly run into a lot of people, and the ones I do, I don’t stick around to get chummy. And when they won’t take no as an answer” She ran a finger across her throat sloppily.  
Bull laughed. “And before that? No friends in your clan?” Winter glared at him and gestured wildly, “I don’t care how much drink you ply me with you’ll get nothing out of me!”  
“Can’t blame a guy for trying” Winter shook her head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs and glared in his direction, “Watch me. If you keep badgering me I’ll call the Brute Squad.”  
Bull bared his teeth at her, “I’m on the Brute Squad.”  
Winter looked him up and down, “Who am I kidding, you are the Brute Squad. Fine, I will come up with more clever and devious ways to make you pay.”  
Bull patted her head condescendingly, “I’m sure you will little Rabbit.”  
Winter swatted his hand away, “Live in fear Ox Man”  
“You’re quite the little spit-fire when you drink.”  
“And you’re quite heavy handed. Like doing surgery with your war-axe.”  
Bull’s grin widened, “I only offer amputations. Works better than the little ticklers you carry” 

Winter was glowering at him, then had a sudden vision. She closed her eyes and swayed a bit on her bench, playing into the illusion the drink was getting to her. Although she wasn’t sure how much was faked and how much was real. When the Inquisitor came back, most of her companions would indulge in a card game. She had an evil thought and tried to keep it off her face, prompting her sight into the immediate future. Seeing the outcome of the game decided her. When she opened her eyes, Bull noticed and felt a little uneasy at the sudden change in them. They had taken on a calculating gleam, very different from her drunken glaze from a few moments before. 

“Okay, Ox Man, I have a proposition for you. Let’s play a game of Wicked Grace. I win, you stop trying to pry information from me. You win, I will answer one question for you.”  
Bull was regarding her thoughtfully, “Ten questions. And you’ll answer them honestly.”  
“Three, and I can lie freely.”  
“Seven, and you can only lie about irrelevant facts.”  
“Four and I can embellish what I want.”  
“Five and you have to wink when you lie, and it still can’t be about anything that matters.”  
“Deal” Winter stuck out her hand. When Bull took it, she gave him a feral grin and cackled, the hardness of her gaze fading. “Oh you have no idea what you just did.” Bull clucked his tongue, recovering quickly, “Oh little Rabbit, how mistaken you are. You have no idea what you have just done. I think my first question is going to be…What naughty things do you want to do with our fade mage? And I expect details”  
“Keep talking because that’s all you can do. You want smut you’ll have to read Varric’s next book. Speaking of, Varric, Deal us in. Oh don’t look at me like that, everyone knows you keep a deck on you when you come out to slum it with us lowlies” She smiled at him to show there were no teeth behind her words. 

Dorian was pouting prettily, “Can other’s play or is this a blood match?” Winter closed her eyes, reached with her mind, and was rewarded with another vision, the outcome would be the same if Dorian and Varric joined, and shrugged, “You’re welcome to play, it’ll be healthy for your ego when I beat you.” He laughed, “And what do I get when I win?” Winter gave him the same evil grin she had bestowed upon Bull, “A victory kiss from the loser of your choosing.”  
Dorian’s lips quirked, “It’s hardly a prize if it’s something I don’t want and could get anyway.”  
Varric snorted, “Ha, you wish Sparkler.” Winter nodded, “I concur, I imagine kissing you would be rather like kissing a wiggly caterpillar.” Varric and Bull laughed.  
Dorian glared at them all, “A caterpillar?!”  
“Yea, isn’t that what that is? Right there?” She rubbed her upper lip.  
“I’ll have you know proper mustache upkeep requires a lot of effort. There is nothing caterpillar like about it!”  
Winter turned to Varric, “Quick! Deal the cards, before he gives us a 40 minute lecture actually detailing his mustache upkeep routine, then launches into a tangent about how mustaches are a mark of Tevinter fine breeding!”  
Dorian sputtered, “But we haven’t settled what happens when I win!”  
Winter rolled her eyes, “Yes we did! And in the highly unlikely event that actually happens, if you wish a different prize, we can renegotiate then.”  
Varric shuffled the deck, but then paused, “What do I get if I win?” Winter threw up her hands, “You won’t!” Bull and Dorian nodded. When he didn’t deal the cards Winter sighed. “Fine, what do you want?”  
“The same deal as Tiny.” Winter considered him carefully. “You want nothing from either of them? Just information from me?” Varric chuckled, “The way I see it, information from you is valuable enough that if I get it, I can get anything I want from them. And probably a few others. You’re mysterious enough that you might even make a good book someday.”  
“And how do you figure that?”  
“Writer’s instinct.”  
“Fine, but same deal as with Bull, I win, you don’t pry into my past either. You two are ridiculous. Dorian is the only one with the decency to be too self-involved to care.”  
The mage in question was pouring himself another glass of wine, when he looked up, “That’s not true. I’m interested, I just have the good manners not to ask.”  
“And I’m very fond of you for it.” He raised his glass before taking a drink. Varric cut the deck one last time and the game started.

Winter looked at her cards and considered her first move. Bull looked at Varric over his and frowned as if something just occurred to him, “Hey, don’t most dwarves have beards? Or at least mustaches or something?” Varric gave him a flat look, “I make up for it elsewhere.” Winter grinned, “More than just that thick coat you sport under your shirt?” Varric winked, “Play your cards right and maybe you’ll see” Dorian groaned at his pun, “That was bad and you should feel bad. And poaching Solas’s lady, shameful… I love it.”  
“I am not his lady!”  
Dorian patted her hand consolingly, “Maybe not yet dear, but don’t worry, with our help, you will be.”  
Winter gritted her teeth and focused on her cards. She had to calm down. She reminded herself that punching someone over a game of cards was too cliche for her. She took a few calming breathes and attempted to come back to the game.

She absent-mindedly started humming.  
Bull laid a card, “What’s that tune? I’m not familiar with it.”  
Winter looked up, “Huh? Oh, was I humming? I don’t know, something I heard somewhere.” Like hell she was going to tell them she wrote it.  
Varric nodded, “It sounds nice, you should sing it.”  
Winter flushed, “No one wants to hear me sing, it’s just something I do out in the field to pass the time.” She took another drink.  
“Then with all that practice you should be pretty good by now.” Winter gave him a lopsided grin, “No dice, I’m not going to sing.”

A few more hands went by. Seeing Dorian subtly reach for a discarded card, she reacted without thinking or looking. She grabbed one of her hidden daggers and stabbed it into the table, right in the card he was trying to slip in his hand. The table went silent, “No cheating.” She glanced up and looked at them all innocently, “The stakes are too high” Bull looked impressed, “How did you see him doing that? I even missed it” Winter shrugged and laid down another card, looking at Bull and missing the card that Varric slipped Dorian under the table. 

The next round the Angel of Death card came up. Winter’s eyes widened. “That’s not supposed to happen yet!” She finished off her second drink, deciding she was done as her head swam. Between the booze and distracting conversation, she was sure some shenanigans had gone down. The future had changed rather quickly for it to not have.  
Dorian and Varric laughed, Bull swore, “No shit. Time to show’em.” He threw down his cards. Two Knights. Varric grimaced and put down two Songs. Winter put hers down, two Daggers and two Angels. Dorian smirked as he laid out four Serpents.  
“Well well well, looks my ego is going to grow, instead of being” he flicked a look towards Winter, “taken down a peg.”  
Winter huffed, “I thought I told you no cheating!”  
“Prove it you tiny terror.”  
“We’re the same height!”  
“Then how do you look so dainty?”  
“Stop changing the subject! You cheated!”  
“Unless you have some way of proving beyond all shadow of a doubt, no one is going to believe you.”  
Winter made a disgusted noise. Figures the future would shift suddenly when she needed it to be stable. Or maybe the alcohol was interfering. Varric patted her hand, “Just accept it Wint. He won” She missed the wink he shot Dorian and Bull. 

Bull took a drink and asked, “Okay Dorian, who do you want your victory kiss from?”  
Dorian gave him a sour look, “I don’t remember agreeing to a kiss being my prize.” Winter sighed, “Then what do you want? The questions? I’ll only answer them in private, away from these two vultures” she gestured vaguely to Bull and Varric as she teetered on the bench.  
“No, I don’t want any information that you won’t freely give. Something you said during the game actually got me thinking.” Winter groaned, “Never a good thing” as Dorian continued over her, “I just want you to sing that song you were humming. It sounded so lovely.”  
Winter gave him a death glare, “It won’t bloom any flowers if that’s what you’re hoping.”  
Dorian laughed, “A shame really, but no matter, I’d still like to hear it. As I’m sure would the rest of the tavern.”  
Winter looked around, for the first time realizing their game had attracted the attention of a lot of other patrons. She colored and ducked her head into her empty tankard.  
She gave him a pleading look, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have something else? Maybe kissing a caterpillar wouldn’t be so bad. I’m sure Bull wouldn’t mind”  
Varric laughed, “Give it up, his people are vilified for a reason.”  
Winter frowned, “I loathe you all. Get me the damn lute.” The sooner this was over the better.  
Bull’s eyebrows rose, “Where did a scout who self admits to hanging out in the wilds alone, learn cards and how to play the lute?”  
Winter gave him a dirty look, “I wasn’t born from an acorn in the middle of the woods. I have spent time around other people before. Occasionally we played games, and I had the aptitude for the lute.” She swallowed and looked nervous, “I’ve just never sang in front of living people before.”  
Bull gave her a strange look, “So you sing to the dead ones?”  
Winter gave him a blank look, “Of course. The dead ones are better listeners.”  
Bull snorted, “Of course, what was I thinking”

Dorian had reappeared with the lute near the stairs, “You know, it occurs to me that back here the acoustics of the room are all wrong. You better come up here to the front where it’s much better.”  
While Winter appreciated what he was doing for her by not demanding her full history, she was still going to think of a way to make him well and truly pay for this.  
“And how am I going to get over there? I can’t walk, remember?” Bull rose to his feet, albeit a bit unsteadily. “I’ll get you there.” Winter eyed the drunk Qunari, “Not on your life. You’ll fall, with my luck on top of me, and then I’ll be dead rather than just injured.”  
“I’m not that big!” Then he glanced down, first at himself then at the smaller elf, “Okay, maybe in comparison to you I am.”  
Suddenly a voice cut through the discussion, “What is going on here?” All four of them stiffened and turned to look. Solas stood a few feet from Dorian, scowling at them all. “Winter, you should not still be up and galavanting around, you should be resting your leg.” She nodded, even as she hunkered down, clearly trying to disappear as even more people turned to see what was going on, especially since Solas had never willingly set food in the Herald’s Rest before. She felt hope bloom in her chest that he was her ticket out. “Yes, that’s what I told these savages when they elf-napped me. But now you’re here and we can go and I will never set foot in this Tavern again.”  
Dorian looked supremely offended, “I did not hear you voicing any objections when we came down here.”  
“I voiced nothing but objections!”  
“Are you sure? I didn’t hear any, Varric?”  
The dwarf shook his head, “No, none. Tiny?”  
Bull gave her a too-innocent look, “Not that I recall.”  
If looks could kill, the three of them would be dead, “I hate all three of you liars.”  
Solas just looked at her calmly, “I did hear you agree to come down here with them.” Winter turned her frosty glare in his direction, but still refused to meet his eyes, “Not you too. We both know I just said that to….” She snapped her mouth shut. Solas gave her a knowing look, “You just said that to what?”  
“Oh never mind. You’re as bad as them.”

Solas had no idea what he was doing here. He had been in the Fade after not getting anywhere with the books. He told himself he was doing more research there, and not waiting for Winter to go to sleep so he could visit her in her dreams where she might be more candid. It maybe wasn’t the most honorable way to figure her out, but patience wasn’t always his strong suite. It seems in that time she had become even chummier with the three, and he felt a pang of jealousy. Not that she was closer to them, but that they were closer to her; despite claims she preferred being solitary, she was very adept at making friends. So when he was awoken rather abruptly by sharp claws slowly sinking into his chest, he opened his eyes and met the angry glare of Zelda, he took it as a sign. He had come looking for Winter. 

Dorian went on, wiggling the lute a bit, “Anyway, you can’t go until I collect my winnings. You owe me a song and I intend to collect.” Winter cast Solas a pleading look, but he had lifted a brow at Dorian. “A song?” Her stomach sank. This was no rescue, this was another way to torture her.  
Dorian gave Winter a victorious smile as he turned to Solas, “Your Winter here talked a big game, and then lost at cards. She owes me a debt. I really can’t let you take her until she pays up.”  
Solas cocked his head to one side, ignoring the insinuation that Winter was his, “What would have happened if she won?”  
“Oh, it was incredibly boring. If she won none of us were ever allowed to ask her any personal questions.”  
“And if you won she had to sing?”  
Dorian waved his hand airly, “Just me, Varric and Bull would have gotten 5 questions she had to answer with minimum lying.” Winter didn’t like the shrewd look that came over Solas’s face at that revelation.  
“Well, a wager is a wager, I’ll help her to the front. But I insist after the song that she leave.”  
Winter bristled, “I am not a da’len that you can order about.” .  
Solas raised a brow, “Did you not want to leave to retire for the night? We have another long day of research ahead of us tomorrow.” Winter pursed her lips, not in any place where she could argue coherently, or even articulate why he was irritating her. It wasn’t what he was saying, it was how he was saying it, somehow taking away her agency in the decision. 

She rose unsteadily to her foot, alcohol doing nothing for her balance. Solas stepped forward and looked down at her. Winter still refused to look him in the eye. Solas sighed before picking her up and taking her to the front of the Tavern; Dorian trailing behind with the damn lute.  
Winter let out the breath she had been holding, she saw no way out of what was coming, and to her complete humiliation now Solas was going to be present to hear her sing in public for the first time. Before he set her down, she stopped him with a hand on his chest, leaned in and whispered, “If this goes south and they start throwing things at me, either you grab me and run, or I’m flinging myself out that door as fast as a bum leg can carry me, further injury be damned.” For the first time since entering the Herald’s Rest Solas’s expression softened. “I’m sure that will not be necessary Lethallan. But I’ll throw up a barrier and carry you if you are worried once you’re done.”  
She looked up into his eyes for the first time since he entered, her gratitude making her violet eyes shine over the panic. Solas felt his pulse quicken, and reluctantly set her down on a table. 

Dorian came forward and smugly handed her the lute. Winter nervously strummed it, and adjusted the knobs. She heard Maryden let out an annoyed sound. She glanced her way with an apologetic look. Her courage, while made of steel in battle, seemed to have fled when faced with a roomful of drunk bar patrons. Deciding that the sooner she did this, the sooner she could leave, she started.

Hello darkness, my old friend  
I've come to talk with you again  
Because a vision softly creeping  
Left its seeds while I was sleeping  
And the vision that was planted in my brain  
Still remains  
within the sound of silence

When the first simple chords were struck, it had gotten quiet. But when her voice joined in, silence was absolute. Winter’s voice was throaty and low. The music slow but beautiful. 

In restless dreams I walked alone  
Narrow streets of cobblestone  
'Neath the halo of a street lamp  
I turned my collar to the cold and damp  
When my eyes were stabbed  
By the flash of a brilliant light  
That split the night  
And touched the sound of silence

Solas was mesmerized. As were every other person in the vicinity. Winter seemed to have put them all in a trance. 

And in the naked light I saw  
Ten thousand people, maybe more  
People talking without speaking  
People hearing without listening  
People writing songs  
That voices never share  
And no one dare  
Disturb the sound of silence

Varric and Dorian exchanged looked, Dorian’s slightly guilty. The shy scout had only ever talked about how she liked being a nobody, and thanks to their game, until she left to get back in the field, she was going to be a somebody. 

"Fools, " said I, "you do not know  
Silence like a sickness grows  
Hear my words that I might teach you  
Take my arms that I might reach you."  
But my words like silent raindrops fell  
And echoed in the wells of silence

Bull was looking from Winter, whom once she had started playing had relaxed and lost herself into the song, to everyone around the room. It was like she had hit them all with a tranquilizer dart. Then he looked at Solas, and raised his brows. The elf’s normally calm face was alight with emotion, and he was looking at Winter in a very feral way. 

And the people bowed and prayed  
To the new God they made  
And the sign flashed out its warning  
And the words that it was forming  
And the sign said,  
"The words of the prophets  
Are written on the fortress walls  
And tenement halls.  
And whispered in the sound of silence

As the song ended, Solas felt like he was rooted in place. He inexplicably felt shaken to his core. Winter was a lot more than what met the eye, he knew that, but this… She had somehow put to music his feelings since waking; she had reached inside of his private thoughts laid it all out for an entire room of people. He was more determined than ever to find out all her secrets. By any means necessary; she was no ordinary elf. 

When the song was over, Winter came back to reality. She looked up and scanned the crowd, some had their eyes closed, some were trying to discreetly wipe their eyes, and a great many of them were staring at her as if they had never seen anything like her before. Winter was starting to panic, not liking the looks on some of their faces. She set the lute down and looked for Solas. When she found him, she didn’t know what to do. He was standing there as still as a statue, his eyes blazing with… something. Not dwelling on that she gestured with her eyes that they needed to go, and stood up; it seemed to snap him out of it. At least he sprang into action, his eyes never lost their intensity. 

Solas stepped forward, swept Winter off her feet, and was out the door before anyone else knew what was happening. Once the door shut behind him, the Tavern exploded into noise, but they were already heading away. When the door opened a few moments later and someone scanned for them in the night, they were well beyond sight already. Winter shivered in the sudden chill. Solas was moving with a purpose, taking her where she didn’t know. He still seemed tense but she had no idea why.

“Where are we going?” Winter’s voice was just a whisper in the dark. Solas didn’t answer just continued on. “You know, I usually sleep outside, so if you just want to find a quiet, out of the way place to put me down, I’ll rest. All the resting. I’ll just get to that. No one else will rest more than me. In fact, you’ve never seen someone rest like I can” Apparently ale made her chatty, a novel experience for her.  
She didn’t mention she normally slept in the stall with the Bog Unicorn. The fearsome beast was notoriously temperamental. In addition to being gruesome looking, it smelled like a grave. Even Stable Master Dennet avoided it when he could, but the ghoulish creature had taken a liking to Winter, and she felt safe enough in it’s presence to sleep. When she was healed, she was going to request it as her mount. Might as well, no one else wanted to go near it and it was a waste keeping such a dark beauty locked in a cell.  
Only Blackwall knew she slept there, and the two had developed a tentative friendship, not that he told anyone. The man was almost more tightlipped with secrets than her. 

While she had been thinking she didn’t even notice that Solas had started ascending the stairs. She made the mistake of looking over the side once they were halfway up, and the height combined with all the alcohol in her system made her dizzy. The torches below looked so small, just tiny pinpricks of light. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried very hard not to think, while gulping in deep breathes of the fresh air. “Is there a bucket where we are going? Because there should be a bucket. I may puke. If there’s no bucket and I’m aiming over the side, make sure I don’t fall. Or just push me over so I can be put out of my misery.” Solas made no reply.

Finally they arrived to their destination. Or at least she felt Solas pause, open a door, and enter a room, and come to a stop. He set Winter on her feet and lit a veilfire torch he kept on a small table in his room. When he turned to look at her, Winter unconsciously shrank back from the consuming look in his eyes, a feat in itself because the slight movement made her sway unsteadily on her feet. 

He spoke for the first time since leaving the Herald’s Rest. “Where did you learn that song?” Whatever she was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. She still couldn’t identify what he was feeling, although he was attempting to hide it, to speak in a even voice. She could hear it though, simmering under his tone, fighting to break through his calm. 

Winter shrugged, the movement making her sway more, “Why does it matter?” She put a hand to her head to try and steady herself. Not wanting to admit the truth, Solas tried a different tactic, “The words, they were dangerous in a crowded pub of people fighting a religious war. It sounded almost like heresy.” Solas frowned at the state of her, trying to get an answer out of her while pretending he was concerned for her safety would probably work under normal circumstances, but it was abundantly clear that Winter was drunk.

Winter’s vision was starting to swim, her thoughts grew more scattered. Whatever was in that ale, it had delayed effects and she was going down fast. Literally. Solas reached out and caught her by the shoulders. She frowned at him, swayed a bit, and backed up a few paces, until she was against the wall and felt a little more stable. He had followed and still had his hands on her; in case she fell again. Winter gave him a puzzled look, “What were we talking about?” Solas ground his teeth. She was in no shape for conversation. Winter suddenly concentrated intently on his face, her eyes wide. Solas felt self-conscious for the first time in longer than he could remember. “What?” Winter looked into his eyes, her own still wide. She whispered, as if delivering a great secret, “Did you know, you have the most adorable freckles over the bridge of your nose and cheekbones?” She glanced left and right, as if to make sure no one else was with them in the tiny room, then told him with solemn sincerity, “I like freckles” Solas was appalled when he felt himself blush. 

He didn’t know how to respond when her eyes suddenly unfocused, and it was like she was looking through him. Her expression turned sad, “You’re alone. Always alone. You didn’t know when you started this path did you? Or maybe you did, but you didn’t care then. But now it eats at you, the isolation.” Her eyes shifted back into the present. The secrets she always had tucked away in them seemed closer to the surface. Solas was frustrated, if he only knew the correct thing to say, the right combination of words, maybe he could unlock them. Winter leaned closer, their faces inches apart, her face the picture of genuine curiosity, “Me too. But I had no choice, why did you choose this? Did you know it would be this hard?” 

The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Was she a spirit, like Cole? Could she read his thoughts as Cole did? Wouldn’t he have sensed it as he did with Cole? The Otherness? It made a weird sort of sense, how she was able to guess his feelings so easily, something no one else had been able to do besides Cole. To look inside him and guess his greatest fear. 

However, she felt solid enough under his hands, but so did Cole. She was hinting at things he didn’t say, things no one could possibly know. But Cole didn’t eat and he certainly didn’t drink. The fact that Winter was this drunk definitely was a solid case for her being a flesh and blood being. 

Winter leaned back, letting her head thud the wall. She closed her eyes, “Solas, can you please make the room stop spinning? I don’t like it. And did you make sure there is a bucket? I may require it’s services very soon” Definitely not a spirit, and he felt himself relax a little now that she was acting normal again. Her legs finally gave out, and Winter fell in an undignified heap on the ground, sliding down the wall with the scrape of metal on stone. 

Solas let her go and stepped back, still rattled at her cryptic words, but relieved to be back on familiar ground. He decided to go get a bucket to clear his head. She looked serious about puking. This was not how he pictured the night going. How could she know these things? He quietly retreated, hoping not being in such close quarters with her would help to clear his head.

Winter took off her hat, closed her eyes, and laid down on the ground. It wasn’t the most comfortable place she could pass out, but it wasn’t the most uncomfortable either. She vaguely thought she had seen a bedroll, but trying to locate it and crawl over there seemed like a lot more effort than it would be worth. She made a pillow of her arms, closed her eyes, and let the darkness take her.

When Solas returned he was half relieved to find Winter out cold. On the one hand he wanted answers, but on the other she wasn’t able to focus or speak straight. Every time she spoke, it created more questions than answers. He brightened, now that she was asleep, perhaps he could find her in the Fade. There her physical ailments wouldn’t be an issue, and she might be more forthcoming in dreams, not realizing the danger. He first gently moved her from the floor to his bedroll, before taking up vigil against the wall she had just been. He sat in the cobbler’s pose and slipped his mind into the Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't obvious, Dorian let Winter catch him obviously cheating so she wouldn't figure out they were secretly cheating all along.
> 
> The other two were in on it.
> 
>  
> 
> Also I don't normally have this kind of turnaround for chapters, I just have a lot of spare time here lately.


	3. If you ever come back, we'll kill ya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this chapter is Creep by Radiohead. No real significance behind it, I just like it. Not every chapter will have songs from now on, I just figured Winter was the type to sing in the shower, because who isn’t?

Winter woke up rather abruptly the next morning in a cloud of confusion. Years of training kept her still instead of jolting awake or moving. Her head felt full of cotton and her mouth was as dry as the Hissing Wastes. She had no memory of where she was or how she got there. The last thing she could recall was singing in the Herald’s Rest and then Solas taking her out of the tavern. She opened her eyes and scanned her surroundings. She was in a small, sparsely decorated room. The walls were bare, and she was on a bedroll on the ground. There was a table with a bit of veilfire on it. She still had no idea where she was when she saw Solas against a wall. He was sitting with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. She swallowed, figuring he must have brought her back to his room. And put her in his bed.  
The thought made her flush. What had happened last night? She needed to get out, regroup and get back on familiar ground. She wasn’t used to sleeping in such an enclosed space and the lack of airflow wasn’t helping her hangover; in fact it was making her feel trapped on top of it. She slowly started crawling towards the door, keeping one eye on Solas. She paused once to gently pick up her hat, tuck her hair into it, and put it on. Solas seemed to be in a deep meditative state, and she only hoped he stayed that way until she could get away to clean herself up. She was vain enough to know she looked and smelled horrible and she didn’t want him to see her like that. Anymore than he had last night anyway. And she definitely didn’t want to face him until she found out what had or hadn’t happened after leaving the Herald’s Rest.  
She slowly opened the door and rolled out. Once in the hallway she exhaled, now she just needed to figure out where his room was in relation to the bathhouse and she could get there. Lacking a better idea, she set off randomly in one direction. It seems she chose correctly because she came to a door instead of a dead end, but when she opened it, she groaned. It was taking her right by Vivienne’s haunt. At least the frigid, watchful mage was out with the Inquisitor, so she might be able to make it outside with her dignity in tact. Crawling and relying on other people to get around were both less than ideal choices, so she was going to see if Blackwall could carve her some crutches. Maybe giving her a little more control in her own decisions. With that thought, she decided to go to Blackwall first. The sooner he could get her crutches, the sooner she could start removing herself from unpleasant situations.  
Her pride took another hit when she got to the stairs. She had to turn around and navigate them one at a time, pushing herself up and back with her arms, then dragging her legs after her. Scooting down the stairs was similar. As she passed the window, she saw the sun was barely rising and it was still grey out. Further giving her hope that she could make it out of the keep quietly. She was only grateful that no one else was up at this hour to witness her undignified retreat. Winter vowed to never drink again. Or at least not until she could use her own legs. She had a lot of time to think about it on the trek down to the stables, and nothing about this situation made her eager for a repeat performance.  
The whole thing was salvageable until she was making her way down the long staircase from the front door of the keep to the grounds. She had decided on going the quickest route rather than the stealthiest one. Winter was focusing on scooting down the stairs and didn’t hear someone come up behind her. When a throat cleared Winter froze, and a deep voice said “Scout, what are you doing?” She slowly turned and found herself face to knees of someone in full armor. Her mind was rejecting who it was, but she recognized those dark boots. Had seen him drilling the soldiers every day for months now. This was so not what she needed on her crawl of shame.  
Winter gulped and looked up, the Commander was standing there, looking at her with a stern expression on his face. From this angle her back was to the sun, casting her face in shadow. Did she know he got up this early? Her mind was still too foggy, she couldn’t recall. She vaguely remembered seeing him to go to the chapel on other days. “Well Scout?”  
“S-s-sorry Ser. I was just making my way to the stables.”  
He lifted a brow, his golden eyes both concerned and amused in the early morning light.  
“And you are scooting along on your backside because…?”  
Winter felt heat rise to her cheeks, “I hurt my leg Ser”  
“Then shouldn’t you be on your way to the healing tents?”  
Winter shook her head, “No ser, some mages are already helping me, I’m on my way to see if Blackwall can construct me some crutches.”  
“Well in that case, do you need assistance?”  
Winter shook her head, “No Ser, I’m fine like this.”  
Cullen’s lips quirked. He had risen early for morning devotions like normal, had slipped back to his office to check if there were any new, pressing reports in the meantime, and now was heading down to the training yard, to run some drills by himself before the recruits got there. He had come across the Scout scooting down the steps like a child. It reminded him of his younger siblings, before they were steady on their legs, how they would navigate stairs. It was making him homesick for his siblings and he found it oddly endearing. He had observed the peculiar behavior for a few minutes before finally feeling like he needed to step in.  
“Scout, I can’t leave you to crawl along in this undignified manner. Let me help you.”  
Winter gulped, not seeing anyway she could gracefully bow out of this. She really didn’t want to be carried by another man, she already felt too much like a damsel in distress as it was. And she really didn’t want a glimpse into his future or past.  
But he was waiting expectantly, his hand out already. Winter sighed, and took it.  
“If you let me lean on you on my bad side I think we can make it.” Cullen nodded, but he doubted the Scout saw. She kept her hat low, and he could just see the bottom half of her face. She was very pale and her lips were thinly pressed in pain, washing them of color too. He barely registered that she was an elf.  
It wasn’t until they had come a few steps down, when Winter had let herself focus on walking, that the visions came. She gasped and her knees buckled, Cullen catching her before she tumbled down the stairs and helping her to sit down. She saw the Knight-Commander slaying mages that became abominations during their Harrowings, and his capture and torture at the hand of some rogue mages in one of the Circles he had been in. She saw the horrors of Kirkwall. The aftermath. She saw him sweating and suffering from his withdrawal of Lyrium. None of it was pleasant. She knew he had been a Templar, but had had no idea what all that entailed.  
She came back to the present slowly, the images lingering. She gradually became aware that he was crouched next to her on the stairs, his hands on her shoulders, and he was increasing his volume to try and get her attention. Winter shook her head, “Sorry, I must have stepped on my ankle wrong.” She risked a quick peek in his face. Cullen looked concerned, “You were mumbling something.”  
Winter bluffed, “Probably curses. This hurts like a bitc…real bad. I’m hoping the healers can figure out what’s going on soon”  
Cullen helped her to her feet, “You know I can carry you if it’s that bad”  
Winter ground her teeth, “Thank you, but no thank you. I’ve had my full of being carried.”  
“You fall again, and you leave me no choice.” Winter sighed in defeat, “Fair enough.”  
“What’s your name?”  
“Ser, don’t trouble yourself with learning it. I’m a nobody.”  
“Humor me, I can’t keep calling you Scout”  
“It’s Winter”  
He chuckled, “I see the custom of nicknames is still going among the agents.”  
Winter gave a close-lipped smile, “We do like tradition. I’m one of the lucky ones, some of the others aren’t so flattering.”  
“I can imagine.”  
They had finally reached the bottom step and were heading towards the stables.  
“How did you hurt your leg?”  
“You don’t have to do this you know, I’m sure you are busy with other, important duties. I appreciate the help, but I know this can’t possible interest you. You don’t have to make polite small talk with me”  
Cullen shrugged, she felt the movement under his armor, “You mentioned mages were trying to figure out what was wrong, that implies it’s an unusual injury, one they can’t easily heal. Mages also means it’s magic related, and not natural. If you require crutches that implies long term. If there’s magical, longterm injuries at risk to the Inquisition, that’s something of great interest to me. Now report.”  
Winter was silent, she had no idea the man was so sharp. But as Commander of the army, that would make sense. Taking the little and applying it to the many. He cleared his throat to remind her he was still waiting.  
“A mage put a curse on me, I don’t know when, that specified any serious injury I got would take a long time to heal. Far longer than normal. Solas and Dorian started researching possible spells to both counteract it, and once I’m healed, they plan to find the culprit.”  
Cullen looked at her fully then, or as much as he could with her hat pulled low and head down. Most of the agents favored head coverings that obscured their faces, he couldn’t order her to show him hers. He had heard Lelianna mention in passing that Solas had taken an interest in an injured Scout, but hadn’t paid it much attention at the time. But here she was. He felt a tiny knot of worry he didn’t know he was holding lessen. He knew that the Inquisitor, Evangalie, and Solas were close. Back at Haven they always seemed to be in each other’s company. Then Haven fell, and she suddenly stopped seeking Solas out so much. Cullen had worried there was more there than friendship between the two. True, she was flirting with him now, but he never knew if she was serious or not. But if Solas was pursuing someone else, then maybe the Inquisitor really was interested. His morning got a bit brighter.  
“Who would curse you?”  
Winter shrugged, “No idea. That’s the truly baffling part. I go out of my way to avoid others, as far as I know I don’t have any enemies beyond our obvious ones. Who and why would have done it? And when? I’ve had a lot of time to think about it since I can’t do much else, and I’m no closer to answers. I’m hoping Solas can figure it out.”  
They reached the stables, and Cullen helped Winter into a chair. He stepped back and looked her over. She was wearing light armor, and it fit her as if made for her, and it was clearly well made. But if she was Dalish it would have been. It also had seen some wear and tear, so she was used to being in the fray. His instincts and her many daggers told him she didn't have magic. What he could see of her skin was very pale. So far he had seen nothing remarkable about her, but maybe that’s what it was. Solas wasn’t loud or flashy, maybe he was attracted to the same traits in his paramours. Although he would never have figured Solas would favor someone without magic.  
“Winter, I expect to be kept up to date about this curse. Until it’s proven to be a one time thing, we have to assume it’s a threat to more than just you. I want a report as soon as you know more.”  
Winter nodded, glad he was leaving and unhappy with the prospect of having to report any findings about her leg to him. Just then Blackwall stuck his head over the side of the loft, likely awakened by their voices; if he wasn’t up already.  
“Commander, what brings you here? Hang on, I’ll come down”  
As he was walking down the stairs, Winter saw a familiar little shape following behind him. She momentarily forgot Cullen was still there, “So the little traitor has been bunking with you? I wondered where she had run off too.” Blackwall chuckled, “Aye, she’s been keeping your other companion entertained while you were away.”  
Winter felt a pang at the mention of Cimmerian, the Bog Unicorn. It had been two days since she had seen her and she missed the beast.  
In the dim stable light Cullen hadn’t seen the cat. He glanced around, trying to see who they were talking about. Winter noticed his confusion and spoke without thinking, “It’s my cat, Commander Zelda. She normally trails after me but I haven’t seen her in awhile.”  
Cullen choked back a snort, looked at her, and raised a brow, “Your cat is named…Commander?” Blackwall laughed as Winter felt her cheeks heat again.  
“Yea…it’s because she’s….well that’s not important. I named her before I joined the Inquisition but I apologize for any offense.” Zelda had finally come into the light.  
Cullen crouched down and wiggled his fingers at the cat, “Why did you name her Commander? And why would I take offense?”  
“Well, this is the offensive part. It’s because she’s a pushy tyrant. She’s a little terror, tricking things into doing her bidding. I called her that jokingly a few times and it sort of stuck” Zelda was rubbing on Cullen’s ankles and was throughly enjoying his attention. Winter glared at the little trickster, she was playing too nice with the Commander. When Zelda rolled onto her back, Winter knew what was coming. Apparently Cullen didn’t spend too much time around cats, because he fell for it. He rubbed her belly. When she suddenly attacked his hand, with claws and fangs, Winter hid her grin. Cullen yanked his hand back with a soft exclamation. Even through the gloves she had got him.  
“See? Tiny Terror. Lures you in with soft promises, then springs the trap.”  
Cullen flexed his hand, “An effective strategy.”  
Blackwall coughed, which sounded suspiciously like a laugh, “Ser, was there something you needed from me?”  
Cullen looked up, “Hmm? Oh. I, ah, stumbled on Winter on the stairs and she needed some help. She asked to be brought here, she has a request for you.”  
Blackwall gave Winter a studying look, “You do seem to have a knack for meeting the right people at the right time.”  
Winter crinkled her nose, “More like I have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”  
Blackwall added, “Incidentally you were the talk of the Tavern last night”  
She made a face, “You were there? What are they saying?”  
“Well some are calling you the Siren of Skyhold. How you have Solas, the Iron Bull, and Varric under your spell. They are undecided on Dorian. His own rumors seem to have people on the fence.”  
Winter pulled her hat down over her face, the motion making her long white hair tumble out of it and down her back, “No no no no no. I am going to kill Dorian.”  
She couldn’t be sure, but she was almost certain Blackwall was hiding a grin under that stupid beard of his. She could feel it from across the room.  
“This is not funny!” Her wail was muffled through the cap.  
Cullen was looking back and forth between the two, not sure what was going on.  
“What do you mean a knack for meeting the right people?”  
Winter froze, she had forgotten he was there again in her misery. This was not a conversation she should be having in front of him. She put her hat down and looked at the ground, letting her hair shield her face.  
“It’s nothing Ser. Thank you for bringing me here; I appreciate your help. I’m sure you have important duties and would hate to keep you from them with idle gossip.”  
Cullen gave her a stern look, he was radiating disapproval from across the stable. She sighed, there was no evading him and it was unwise to try, “It’s truly just hearsay. What Blackwall means is yesterday I met Solas by chance and through him the others. I lost a bet on some cards last night and had to sing at the Herald’s Rest. Now the keep word is that I’m a“ she glanced at Blackwall, “singing seductress.”  
Cullen grinned, “Better you than me.” But then his expression grew thoughtful, “Although if what Blackwall says is true, this is a very opportunistic curse if it’s putting you in the path of so many of the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle.”  
Winter was so startled her head shot up and she met Cullen’s eyes. He was watching her carefully, “Ser, I have no idea what you are getting at, but I would never do anything to jeopardize the Inquisition.”  
Cullen kept his face neutral, taking in the Scout’s face. Her offense at his thinly veiled observation seemed genuine. And if the others liked her, she was probably harmless. He made a note to ask Lelianna about her thoughts on the matter.  
“Maybe not intentionally endanger it, but until the curse is understood, we can’t rule anything out. What if it spreads?”  
Winter’s face went blank, that was not something she had ever even considered. Could curses jump? Were they contagious? That didn’t sound right, but she was no expert.  
“I’ll mention it to Solas to look into it.”  
He glanced at the sun and sighed, “Well now I’m going to be on time.” Winter looked up, also noting how late it had gotten.  
“Thank you again Ser.” She saluted him from her chair, but he was already heading away. Winter turned her frosty glare upon Blackwall. “That was rather unnecessary. To embarrass me in front of the Commander.”  
Blackwall looked at her, “Is it wise to badger me when you need a favor?”  
Winter brightened, “Actually yes, because now you owe me! I need a pair of crutches. The next man who tries to pick me up I’m going to cold cock right in the face”  
Blackwall laughed, “Alright, I can help with that.”  
“And…if we shut the doors…can we let Cimmerian out? She’s been coped up for so long, no one will know…she’s not a danger to anyone….” She gave Blackwall her best pleading face. He sighed, “Sure, why not. But first let me measure your height, once that ghoul is out we both know I won’t be able to come near you.”  
Winter nodded and stood up. She tensed when Blackwall measured her armpits. She had seen his secret back in Haven, but she also saw all the good deeds he had done trying to make up for his mistakes. Each time he touched her she saw something new, and she felt uncomfortable knowing so much about someone so private. Especially since she valued her own privacy so highly. She wondered what made him such a good Sight conductor, and what made some of the others so quiet. Something to mull over another time.  
Soon enough he was done measuring her arms and height, and Blackwall shut the doors. Winter settled among some loose hay, knowing how Cimmi was. Blackwall opened the door to her stall and stepped back. The Bog Unicorn wasted no time in darting out the stall and going to Winter, settling in the hay around her.  
Blackwall stayed back and shook his head, just observing the odd pair for a few minutes. The Bog Unicorn was a difficult animal - terms he used loosely. The creature had come to them by unusual means, The Collective had offered the mount to the Inquisitor as a gift of good will. Not one to turn down an alliance lightly, Evangelie had Lelianna send some of her Agents, Winter among them, to collect the strange mount. It was only described in the note as being of noble spirit, fallen in battle against rage, returned to life by the limitless urge to run and serve a worthy cause and noble master. The Collective had meant it as a boon to the Inquisitor, proving that she had reach beyond the mortal realm.  
But on the returning trip the beast had taken an uncanny liking to Winter. It refused to let any of the others in the party ride it, barely tolerating their touches. They were all too happy to oblige and let Winter care for the beast. So Winter had returned alone to quietly stable the mount while the others reported back to Lelianna. Blackwall remembered the day he saw her leading it in, it was the first time they had met.  
He had asked, “What in Andraste’s ass is that?!” And Winter hadn’t even turned from the mount, just rubbed her face along the neck of the creature while informing him coldly, “It’s a Bog Unicorn. New mount for the Inquisitor.”  
“How is anyone supposed to care for that nightmare? And who would want to?” That had got her attention, Winter patted it’s neck reassuringly, and turned to glare at him.  
“You don’t. This beauty is self-sufficient. You won’t have to sully your hands.” She turned back to the Bog Unicorn and began murmuring reassurances to it.  
“I meant no offense, but you have to admit, it’s not everyday you see a dead horse walking! How was I supposed to know?”  
“Just ask, there’s no reason to be rude.”  
“I did ask!”  
Winter turned back around and gave him another glare, “Ask nicer. She has feelings; she is not an ‘it’. Just because she’s a little different is no reason to treat her with aversion and distrust! What is it with you humans?”  
And Blackwall had heard the personal undertones, finally looking at the elf. She was pretty, but bald faced. He had seen enough of mankind that he could guess how life had treated her up until now, and see why she would champion another outcast. And he could see how fond she was of the strange stead, he guessed she would be around a lot when she could.  
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m Blackwall by the way. I’m guessing if you are going to come and visit” he swallowed, catching himself before saying -that thing-, “her that we will see each other around. Might as well be friendly.”  
Winter had looked mildly surprised at his abrupt apology, but grateful for it. Her face broke out in a grin, “I appreciate it, I’m Winter.” And their friendship had developed from there.  
The Collective had just said in their message the mount was particular. When the Inquisitor and Cullen had come to see it, it didn’t go well. Evangelie, while fearless in battle, was a gentle soul. The Bog Unicorn was too spirited and she couldn’t stomach it’s smell. It’s gruesome face bothered her, despite assurances that it didn’t hurt it. So she kept to her Hart, and the Bog Unicorn had been in the stables since. It didn’t eat, just stood in it’s cell and watched. Until Winter had come back, after learning the Inquisitor had no intention on using it. She would visit daily while she was at the keep, talking to the beast. Had been the one to name it, Cimmerian. Blackwall had observed from afar, and the two did seem suited to each other. He kept it to himself when he found out she was sleeping in the stall with the thing. Anyone foolish enough to come close would have to deal with the sword. Despite the rust it was still sharp, very much solid, and the creature had good aim. He had seen Winter tossing things at it one day, and it split in half whatever she threw. She had clapped and bestowed praise upon it with each successful. He suspected more magic, but wasn’t concerned enough to investigate.  
It wouldn’t have been his first choice as a mount, with it’s milky eyes, dark skin stretched too tight over bones that stuck out awkwardly. The beasts mouth had been split unnaturally up the sides of it’s jaw, and the sword pierced through it’s skull sometimes dripped. He had no idea what, but the effect was frightening. He supposed in a fight the Bog Unicorn would be deadly, in addition to the intimidation factor. But the way Winter cooed over it, you’d think it was the finest Ferelden show pony.  
As she was doing now, brushing it’s mane while it had laid it’s head in her lap, and he could hear her telling it how exquisite and majestic it was. Blackwall shook his head and got to work. If Winter wanted to talk, she would. He didn’t have to wait long.  
Winter risked a quick glance at him, but Blackwall was just working on her crutches. His comments earlier had raised some questions and he was the closest thing she had to a real friend in this place. She wasn’t convinced the others counted, she was just something new to pass the time. She was sure they would get bored of her once she was healed and out of the keep.  
“Blackwall, there’s not any serious talk around of like…running me off or anything is there?”  
Blackwall was so startled by her question he stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her. But Winter’s face was down, her eyes locked on Cimmi. He turned back to his woodworking table.  
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would there be?”  
“Well you said that everyone thinks I can sing people under my spell, just makes me worried that I’ll be accused of something dumb like being a lust demon or too dangerous to keep around.”  
Blackwall laughed, “That’s absurd. You don’t even have magic. How would you be a demon? Too dangerous to keep around? The whole keep is lousy with apostate mages!” He looked at Winter again and took in how serious she looked. “Oh” He could recognize that look; something similar had happened before or else she wouldn’t be so concerned about it now.  
Winter didn’t look at him just clenched her fists, “Just promise me that if there’s talk about an angry mob, that you give me warning and help me escape?”  
“Of course. I would even provide you cover so you could make your escape on Cimmi. I don’t think there’s a soul alive who could stomach her bearing down on them ready for attack.” Winter laughed, the tension leaving her. She probably was being foolish, but she knew better than anyone how quickly gossip could turn deadly. It was another part of the reason she tried so hard to stay away from people.  
“She is rather ferocious. I can’t wait until I’m healed and out of here. Master Dennet said he would talk to the advisors about letting me take her. It’ll be like having an armed battalion with me.” They began to discuss mounted combat, of which Blackwall was surprisingly well informed.  
~~~~  
Solas had woken up to an empty bed. He was hoping Winter was still in his room this morning so he could get some answers. He felt a twinge of worry, and annoyance. Winter was safe, no harm could have come to her in Skyhold, but what if she further injured herself? She seemed like she was always trying to slip away. He hadn’t been able to find her in the Fade the night before. He was hoping it was because she had so much alcohol in her system she hadn’t been able to dream, and not that she was one of the people who had little connection to the Fade. He took his time straightening his room, debating even going to look for her. But he couldn’t let it go. He first went to the library, but Dorian was there, alone. He asked where Winter was, and where she had ended up the night before after Solas had taken her out of the Tavern. Solas just shrugged and started looking through tombs, so preoccupied he didn’t catch Dorian’s double meaning.  
The more he thought about the situation, the more he felt his stomach drop, how could he be so intrigued by someone so different from him? Yes they were both Elvhen, but she was from this modern time, probably had grown up in a city. He had nothing in common with modern elves, felt no kinship with them. She had no magic. It made no sense. It was for the best that once they got to the bottom of this curse and how she seemed to know things she couldn’t possibly know, that she take off back into the wilds and he would never see her again. After he realized he had reread the page he was on in a book for the third time, he gave up research as hopeless. He needed to find Winter.  
He figured she would probably be somewhere outside, it was where she was most comfortable. He was at the bottom of the long stairs when he ran into an amused Commander, who was heading towards the training yards. Cullen told him the woman he was looking for was at the stables, with a smug smile. He also told him his concerns about the curse, which rankled Solas that he didn’t think of them himself. Solas had merely nodded his thanks, and tried not to let his irritation show. He resisted the urge to tell the Commander to stay away from Winter, he didn’t want more people to take an interest in her.  
He was so consumed with his thoughts when he opened the door to the stables, it took him a minute for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing. Blackwall was carving something at a table, chatting with Winter, who was sitting on a mound of hay with the most bizarre creature he had ever seen curled around her back with it’s head in her lap. At a glance it looked like a nightmares version of a unicorn; like a picture from a fable, but a cautionary one.  
Winter herself looked relaxed and lovely, the tension she normally carried momentarily forgotten. She wasn’t even wearing her helmet, it was upside down near her, with Zelda curled up in it asleep. He observed them for a minute, wondering how she knew Blackwall. And how familiar with him she was. When Winter laughed at something Blackwall said, Solas couldn’t stand idly by anymore.  
Solas cleared his throat. Both Blackwall and Winter froze, then as one turned and looked at him. Blackwall spoke first, “Morning Solas, what brings you to the stables?” Winter ducked her head to hide her grin, they all knew exactly what brought him here, Blackwall just couldn’t resist ribbing him a little.  
Winter tried to appear calm while internally panicking. She didn’t expect him to come find her so soon. But looking at the sun behind him, it was later than she realized, almost noon again. She hadn’t had anytime to try and See what happened last night. She hadn’t had time to wash up, and now she smelled like a tomb on top of old alcohol and maker knows what else. Her hair was a mess and she needed to rinse her mouth. Blackwall had charitably shared his morning breakfast with her and she had gotten sucked into talking with him and fawning over Cimmi instead of getting her ducks in a row.  
“I was looking for Winter, we need to get back to the library to resume research.”  
Winter gave him a too-bright smile, not sure what else to do with her face, “Actually that’s part of why I’m down here. Blackwall is making me some crutches, so I can get around without having someone carry me all the time. While I appreciate it, it’s really inconvenient for you guys. I feel guilty being a literal burden to you. Also I needed some time with Cimmi here” She finished her sentence while nuzzling the thing wrapped around her. Solas slowly nodded, not letting his disappointment show. He would never admit that he liked carrying her around.  
But now he had other questions “Cimmi?” Winter continued gazing at the beast adoringly. “Yea, this is Cimmerian. Cimmi for short. She’s a Bog Unicorn. She was supposed to be a gift to the Inquisitor but they weren’t a good match. So now I take care of her. Well dote on her. You don’t really care for a Bog Unicorn.”  
“What is a Bog Unicorn?”  
Blackwall gave him a mock shocked face, “You mean there’s something that you don’t know?” Winter snorted but turned it into a cough and ducked her head into Cimmi’s mane again when Solas turned a baleful eye on her.“There are many things I do not know. Only a fool presumes to know everything.” He stepped closer to get a better look at the Bog Unicorn. “What manner of creature is it?”  
Winter answered while soothing Cimmi, who had grown restless as Solas drew closer.  
“An undead horse whose spirit was returned to the mortal realm”  
Solas raised a brow, “And you just…pet it? Did you just call it the prettiest undead horse in the world?” He took in the sunken skin stretched over bones, the unblinking, milky eyes, and the rusted sword shoved through it’s skull.  
Winter nodded happily, “Hard not to! Look how resplendent she is!” She rubbed her face into Cimmi’s mane.  
Solas exchanged a look with Blackwall, who shrugged and raised his hands, indicating he didn’t get it either. Solas decided to let it go. His friends were spirits, he could hardly judge Winter for liking an undead horse, on the contrary, he found her ease with the unnatural a relief.  
“How soon will he be finished with your crutches?” Blackwall answered for her from his table, “I’m already done with one, the other should be finished within the hour.”  
Winter nodded, looking up finally, keeping her face carefully blank. “When he’s done I have to find my way to the bathhouse. I really need to get cleaned up. I can head up to the library when I’m done though, and I’ll meet you there.”  
Solas studied her face. She was doing a good job of keeping her face neutral but her eyes gave her away. He could see nervousness hidden in their depths. “Why not let me assist you with the bathhouse and then by the time you are done, Blackwall will be finished and we can go up together?” He really wanted to get her alone.  
Winter blushed and glanced over at Blackwall, who was pointedly ignoring them, “You want to go to the bathhouse with me??” Her voice squeaked on the end of her sentence. Solas mentally kicked himself. What was it about her presence that made him say stupid things? “Just help you there, I wouldn’t go in” Winter’s color was returning to normal, that made more sense, even if the thought of him with her sent a rush of heat through her. She shook her head, “I would hate to waste more of your time. Commander Cullen made some good points earlier. I could be putting more people at risk every second. You should get back to research.”  
Solas kept his frustration off his face. This whole morning was not going anything like what he had planned. He had wanted to wake up to Winter in his bed and get some answers out of her. Now she had somehow found yet more people - whom he could not ignore - to champion her cause. But then he thought of something, “I spoke with the Commander and he did make some good points. However, since I’ve already been spending time in you company, if there is a risk I’m already in it. I can go with you and make sure no one else is around. Clear the bathhouse for you. Keep the further risk to a minimum.”  
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”  
“I insist, it’s for the best.”  
“I also smell really bad, I would hate to subjugate you to that.”  
Solas’s lips quirked, she was grasping at straws so he knew he was close to winning this argument, “I don’t mind. And if you’re on your way to get clean it will be a short subjugation.” Winter sighed in defeat. She didn’t know what it was about him that made her not be able to think quickly on her feet like normal. And her Sight was definitely no help this morning. The universe seemed to be out to get her.  
“Fine. I’ll take the one crutch that’s done to help me maneuver around.” Blackwall tossed it over, careful to make sure it landed just in front of her, not hitting her or Cimmi. “I’ll need your help putting Cimmerian back in her stall.” Winter sighed regretfully and looked down, “Open the door, I’ll convince her to go in.”  
She slowly got to her feet, leaning heavily on the crutch Blackwall had finished. It was of a crude, but sturdy design. She hadn’t wanted something more elaborate, hoping she wouldn’t need the damn things for very long. She turned to the Unicorn.  
“Come on Cimmi, time to go back in the stall. I have to go. No don’t give me that look. I’ll be back. I’ll always be back. And next time I leave for the field, you’re coming with me. Even if I have to steal you.” The Bog Unicorn obediently went into the stall, with Winter murmuring reassurances the whole time, Blackwall closing the door quickly before it had a chance to turn around and take a swing at him. By nature of familiarity the Bog Unicorn tolerated him, but he didn’t want to push his luck.  
Winter had the look of someone going to the gallows. She turned and set off for the bathhouse, not bothering to see if Solas was following her or not. She couldn’t move fast and it wasn’t soon until she heard him fall into step beside her on her injured side. She watched him from the corner of her eye, waiting for him to say something. Too late she realized she had forgotten her hat back in the stables. She tried to subtly pull her hair around her face when she realized Solas was openly looking at her.  
Solas was dismayed to see she had immediately tensed up when they started out for the baths but was trying to hide it. He tried to start with small conversation, hopefully with something easy to put her more at ease.  
“How do you know Blackwall?”  
Winter’s lips curled up in a half smile. “When I brought Cimmi back to Haven he was in the stables. He made some off the collar remarks about her. I got in his face about it, and we’ve been something like friends ever since.”  
Solas thought back to Haven, trying to remember he if had ever seen her around. But he drew a blank. Back then he was consumed with thoughts about the Inquisitor. With a start Solas realized he hadn’t thought about Evangalie in days. And thinking of her now didn’t have the teeth it normally did. It momentarily derailed his thinking. Was he so fickle? He thought he was lost for the Inquisitor, the she alone had a unique spirit, but now he found himself fascinated by another being of this age. For the first time he felt the stirrings of doubt for his endgame.  
It was time to get ahead of this; Winter didn’t know what happened last night, and if her Sight wasn’t going to assist, her only other choice would be to ask Solas directly. He was being too quiet, she had to know if she had done something humiliating.  
“Hey Solas, I have a question for you”  
He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts, “Go ahead”  
“What happened after we left the tavern last night? How did we end up in your room?”  
Solas gave her a sharp look, “You truly do not remember?”  
Winter shook her head. “The last thing I remember is you taking me out of the Herald’s Rest. After that, complete blank.”  
Solas didn’t know if he was more disappointed or relieved. Last night were just the ramblings of a drunk woman, nothing more. She was talking nonsense, no deeper meaning. He had himself half convinced, but when he remembered the stark sincerity in her eyes when she asked him about being lonely he shivered. It couldn’t have been random, could it?  
“Well I didn’t know where you normally slept, you would only tell me ‘somewhere outside’ and I didn’t feel comfortable just laying you somewhere in your highly inebriated state.”  
Winter groaned, “How highly?”  
Solas’s lips twitched, “You are very chatty when you drink”  
Winter put her free hand over her face, from underneath it she asked “How bad?”  
“You kept requesting a bucket, at one point you very politely asked me to make the room stop spinning, and you” he looked at her and smiled, “told me I had adorable freckles”  
Winter jerked, making her crutch slip and she started to fall, but Solas caught her, the motion pulling her around so she was facing him, her arms flailed for a second before she got her balance. They were now very close together, Solas keeping a firm grip on her in case she started to fall again. She kept her head down and covered her face with both hands, dropping her crutch, “I did not! Tell me you’re joking!”  
“I’m afraid not. You also went on to tell me that you liked freckles. Now that I think about it, I don’t believe I ever thanked you for the compliment.”  
Winter’s voice came out muffled through her fingers, “I am never drinking again. Solas, I apologize for my behavior last night. You’ve been helpful to me and I’m kind of an inconvenience to you.”  
Solas chuckled, “Winter it was hardly an insult. Look at me” She shook her head hard. He gently lifted her chin, and pushed her hands aside until she had no choice. Her cheeks were still stained red. “You are not an inconvenience. I found your ramblings charming.”  
Winter gave him a shy, half smile, “That may be worse” she whispered.  
Solas gently brushed her hair back behind her ear, “Probably.” His voice was just as soft.  
Winter resisted the urge to lean into his hand, the tips of his fingers tickling her sensitive ears.  
Solas knew this was a bad idea, getting attached to someone else was counter productive to his plans. Especially with what was to come for him. This was why he had diswayed Evangalie's interest in him. But he seemed unable to stop himself with Winter. He was consumed by her large violet eyes. They captivated him, he wanted to explore the woman behind their fathomless depths.  
Winter stilled as she stared into his eyes, getting lost. She couldn’t decide if his eyes were more like storm clouds or smoke, they seemed bottomless. She glanced down at his lips and unconsciously licked her own.  
It was when Solas shifted slightly nearer that Winter became acutely aware of just how close they had gotten, where her thoughts were, and panicked. She couldn’t get attached to him, not when she was planning on disappearing as soon as this was all over. Not when she hadn’t tried to See their future and how this would all play out.  
Winter gently pushed herself away from him. She also didn’t need more rumors spread about her. She glanced around but didn’t see any signs of other people. She attempted to pick up her crutch, “Allow me” and Solas handed it to her.  
She made a face at him, “Show off” but then smiled her thanks and they continued on. Now she felt even more awkward, because she had definitely been considering kissing him. She thought it was one sided, but the look in his eyes made her second guess that. She dismissed it as folly. Her own clan had rejected her, why did she think another elf who didn’t know her from Adam would want her? Especially a scholarly, magicked one? She was just a puzzle to be solved, cast aside when they were bored. It wouldn’t be the first time.  
Solas was both grateful and disappointed that she had pulled away. If she kept looking at his lips with that hungry look in her eyes he didn’t think he would have resisted kissing her much longer. And when she had moistened her own…He forced his mind back to the tasks at hand.  
Winter tried to think of the most unattractive thing they could talk about. Her mind landed on vomit, “So did I end up needing the bucket last night?”  
Solas laughed, “No, you just took the opportunity of me leaving to fetch you one to pass out on my floor.”  
“But I woke up in a bed?”  
Solas nodded, “I felt bad leaving you on the floor.”  
Winter nudged him with her shoulder on the next step, “Thank you. I guess I owe you one” She sighed, “Although you could have left me outside, I would have been okay.”  
Solas gave her a weird look, “Where do you normally sleep?”  
Winter glanced at him, “Outside. ish, mostly. That’s why I would have been fine”  
“You sleep outside? Even in the middle of the cold season?”  
“Well yea, I got used to it living on my own out in the wilderness. Sleeping in fully enclosed spaces feels unnatural to me now.”  
“You mean when you are out in the field”  
“Then too, but also before that. I’ve lived off on my own for my entire adult life.”  
“So you…didn’t grow up in an alienage?”  
Winter laughed, “A city? No. I grew up in a Dalish camp. I’m less than useless in a city.” She suppressed a shudder at the thought of being in an urban area with that many people so close together all the time. Especially new people constantly. She would be blinded by images. It was bad enough at the Keep.  
Solas stopped and looked at her, as if he hadn’t seen her properly before. He didn’t know why he didn’t immediately recognize her armor as Dalish. Maybe it was because the tunic she wore over it was a different style? That Dalish armor now was so different from Elvhen armor from long ago? Looking now, really looking at her armor, it was obvious. He wasn’t sure how he had missed it before.  
After a few steps Winter realized he wasn’t next to her anymore, she stopped and turned, “What?”  
“You’re saying you are a Dalish Elf?” Winter shook her head, “No, I’m saying I was a Dalish Elf. Now I’m a solitary hermit. Big difference.”  
“If you were Dalish why don’t you have a Vallaslin?”  
Winter shrugged, “Why don’t you have a Vallaslin?”  
“Because I grew up in a small village where it wasn’t a common practice.”  
“Alright, mystery solved then.”  
“Nothing was solved, you haven’t answered my question!”  
Winter glared at him, “I don’t really want to get into it.”  
“You did say you owed me”  
Winter frowned at him disapprovingly before turning and continuing to the baths, they were almost there despite her slow going, “And you’re going to immediately cash it in now? I said I owe you a favor, not information. What is it with you guys? Why do you want to know my background?”  
“Why do you try to hide it so much?”  
“I don’t think not wanting to talk about it is the same as hiding it. Besides, I’m a private person, and some things people don’t need to know.”  
“Need to know or you don’t want them known?”  
She waved her free hand, “Both.”  
“So are you refusing to tell me?”  
“Maybe; share something personal with me and I’ll consider telling you. Tit for tat.”  
Solas grew quiet as he considered her offer. It was a smart move on her part. He couldn’t maintain his own secrets while expecting her to share hers. Although he doubted hers were the same magnitude as his own. He would have to play this carefully.  
“What kind of thing do you want to know?”  
Winter waved her hand vaguely, “For something like this it’s gotta be either embarrassing or extremely personal. Maybe both”  
Solas considered briefly before answering, “As you wish. I’m a Dreamer.”  
Winter stopped and glanced back at him, “I have no idea what that means so I hope that wasn’t too deep a secret of yours” She was lying, she had a vague idea of what that was, but a plan had formed while they were bargaining.  
Solas took a few long strides to catch up with her, frustrated because she didn’t have a magical background to understand the magnitude of what he said.  
“A dreamer is a mage capable of entering the fade at will, without the aid of lyrium.”  
“And…that’s….big?”  
Solas felt his jaw clench, “Yes. Dreamers can shape the Fade and affect the dreams of sleeping people, killing them or driving them mad. I can also dream in a place and learn it’s history.”  
Winter stopped short and looked at him hopefully, “You can See the past?”  
Solas gave her a careful look, “In a manner of speaking. It’s dependent on the spirits there. Sometimes they are biased, sometimes they have little interest. But if you are patient, sometimes they re-enact the history of a place.”  
Winter pursed her lips and started walking again, clearly disappointed. “I guess that’s sort of useful” She had gotten her hopes up for nothing. For a brief moment she thought he might have had a sort of Sight too, and she had questions if he did. But it was just more regular magic stuff. Like the proverbial cheese, she was alone.  
Solas bristled, “It’s very useful. I’ve seen wars that took place a thousand years ago. I’ve learned many things through visiting ruins and communing with the spirits there!”  
“Assuming they weren’t lying and were actually paying attention that day you ask about” Winter could practically hear a vein in his head about to rupture; her plan was working. Solas was getting so charged up about her casual dismissal of him being a Dreamer, he forgot to make her hold up her end of the bargain.  
“Well I hardly expect someone with no real connection to the Fade and no magic to be able to comprehend what it’s like. Seeing the past is a gift” Winter actually snorted. The hilarity of the situation was too much. It would almost be worth it to tell him she could See the past with much more clarity and accuracy than his friends showing him secondhand, but let it go. They had reached the bathhouse.  
Winter stopped at the door with a too-pleasant smile, the kind a serving maid would give a belligerent customer, “You make some excellent points. I don’t have magic, so my opinion is mud to you. Glad to know where I stand. Now want to go in and run everyone else out or should I just go in and potentially infect them all?”  
Solas ground his teeth. Her flippant attitude was making him want to shake her. He marched by her into the bathhouse without a word. This time of day there was really no one else in there, besides the attendants. He sent them away and came back. “All clear. I’ll just wait out here for you.”  
“Okay, maybe commune with some spirit friends to find out the history of the bathhouse. I bet it’s fascinating.”  
Solas spun around with an angry retort, but the door had already swung shut behind her. He sat back down in cobbler’s pose next to it. He couldn’t really go into the Fade, not if he was going to keep people out of the building like he intended, but he would definitely meditate to cool off the worst of his temper.  
After a few minutes meditating he felt his anger leaving him and his head clear.  
He was reflecting on their conversation when it dawned on him, she had never gave him an answer. He grinned, impressed despite himself. He would eventually stop underestimating her wits. The shrewd minx had riled him up intentionally. He was half tempted to walk into the bathhouse and demand she hold up her end of the bargain, but dismissed that idea. It would create more problems than it solved. Although interrogating her while she was unclothed…Solas’s suppressed a groan, the idea excited him more than it should. He reminded himself again that he was not to get involved.  
His ears started twitching and Solas perked up. He heard something. He sidled closer to the door and gently pulled it open. There it was, Winter was singing again as she bathed. He used his knee to keep the door propped opened as he listened, taking pleasure in her voice, waiting until she was done to confront her.  
~~~  
Winter knew Solas had said the bathing area was clear, but she still looked around when she entered. Not seeing anyone, she let out the breath she’d been holding, and sat down for a moment, not holding any visions back. She knew she was truly alone when she didn’t See anything new. And the bathhouse must not have been too exciting a place because it did nothing to trigger her Sight either. Winter heaved a grateful sigh and smiled.  
She gleefully stripped off her armor, first cleaning it as best she could with the tools provided, then slipped into one of the larger, hot pools to soak. She hummed with pleasure. The heat felt wonderful. She washed her hair and body with the lilac and berry soap she preferred as she felt her muscles start to relax. She decided to use this time constructively. She laid back and concentrated. She got a flash from last night, recognizing Solas’s room. It was of her asking Solas if he knew a path he took would make him as lonely as he was, before admitting to him that she was lonely as well. She asked him why he would choose to be solitary if he had a choice, while admitting that she wasn’t by her own decision.  
She had no idea what she had seen last night, but it had made her sad. She shook her head at her folly, one night of drinking could have ruined everything. She would definitely need to be more careful.  
And now she had to think of a plausible reason why she wouldn’t want to get a Vallaslin, her little stunt had only bought her some time to think. Solas was too shrewd to forget for long. He knew they were slave markings, and even knew how to remove them, but besides her she had never known another person to feel that way. And she knew how she knew that, and thanks to his confession she knew how he knew, but if she admitted it to him that she knew then he would want to know how she knew. The whole line of thinking made her crosseyed. And didn’t explain the spell to remove them. That was new, she had no idea such a thing was even possible.  
She tried to nudge her Sight into the future, specifically about her and Solas, but again she got nothing. She cursed and hit the top of the water, frustrated. Sometimes it really sucked to be a Seer. She wondered if she could slip out the back and head toward the Keep, how long would it take him to notice? How long would it take him to come for her? She felt a sudden chill, not a full premonition but a feeling that he would always find her. She looked around the bathhouse, paranoid, but it was just as empty as it was before.  
She regretfully got out of the pool and hopped over to rinse, idly singing a song she had heard in one of her future visions under the water while she thought through how she would explain herself to Solas.  
   
When you were here before,  
Couldn't look you in the eye,  
You're just like an angel,  
Your skin makes me cry,  
You float like a feather,  
In a beautiful world,  
I wish I was special,  
You're so fucking special.  
But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo,  
What the hell am I doing here?  
I don't belong here.  
I don't care if it hurts,  
I want to have control,  
I want a perfect body,  
I want a perfect soul,  
I want you to notice,  
When I'm not around,  
You're so fucking special,  
I wish I was special  
But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo,  
What the hell am I doing here?  
I don't belong here.  
Oh, oh  
She's running out again,  
She's running out...  
She run run run run...  
Run...  
Whatever makes you happy,  
Whatever you want,  
You're so fucking special,  
I wish I was special...  
But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo,  
What the hell am I doing here?  
I don't belong here,  
I don't belong here.  
Winter got out from under the stream and toweled off, still humming. She picked a few of the mint leaves off the plant by the sinks and chewed them as she dressed, before rinsing her mouth. Too soon she was expected to face the world. Well face Solas. She debated again just sneaking out the back, but without being able to run for a quick getaway it wouldn’t be worth it. She redid the braid on the left side of her face and swept the rest of her long hair over to the right like she normally did, reapplied her makeup, squared her shoulders, and hobbled out.  
Solas was waiting for her, standing patiently off to the side. He must have heard her approach. She tried not to let it bother her, but for someone who was used to being able to move without a sound, the fact that she was so noisy now was vexing. One look at his face and she knew he had figured out what she had done. She wondered if she could waylay him some other way, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood to give her a chance.  
Solas meant to immediately accuse her of not holding up her end of the bargain, but when he saw her he was momentarily stymied. Winter’s hair was brighter, her armor was cleaner, her posture was better, and her skin shone. She looked more like a formidable warrior and less like a cowed elf. He was struck anew by her loveliness. She raised her brows and started off towards the stables. As she passed by him he could smell the lilac and berry soap she used, and another scent that was all her. It reminded him of something but he didn’t have time to think on it. She was getting away.  
He fell into step with her easily as they headed back to the stables.  
“I realized something while you were in there. You never answered my question.” Solas was watching her from the corner of his eye for her reaction. Winter didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed. She smirked, “I was wondering how long it would take you to realize that”  
“An efficacious strategy”  
“Not effective enough, you calmed down and realized rather quickly I was playing you. It should please you to know that it normally takes people a lot longer to figure it out. Usually I’m long gone by the time that they do.”  
“I had wondered if you would attempt to sneak out the back”  
Winter laughed, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t seriously consider it, but since I can’t really run it would have been a pointless exercise. I’ll save it for when I have two working legs and can disappear.”  
Solas’s voice got low, “You think running from me would have kept me from finding you?”  
Winter shivered at his words, which mirrored the feeling she got in the bath.  
“Yes, I’m pretty good at evasion. I think I could elude you”  
Solas felt a thrill at the thought of chasing her, tracking her down, and catching her. Then extracting information from her, out in the wilds, alone, away from everyone. He wondered if she would resist him and how he would go about getting her secrets from her…  
He came back to reality. He really needed to stop doing that. He was supposed to be mature, what was it about her that made him have improper thoughts like a hormonal youth?  
Solas frowned at her, “You’re doing it again. Attempting to distract me so you don’t have to answer.”  
“It was sort of working. You are just much more determined than I anticipated. I’ll have to think of better distractions in the future. Any suggestions on what would work on you?” She glanced coyly at him from under her lashes and nibbled her bottom lip. Solas swallowed, then shook his head, wondering again if she could read thoughts, if she knew how she affected him. He looked straight ahead, “No more games. Winter we had a deal.”  
She sighed, she didn’t really expect that to work. She was pale like a corpse, tall, gangly, and hard from years of combat. Men didn’t like women who could stare them in the eyes. He probably preferred someone small and soft from years of study, someone who didn’t even know which end of the dagger went into an enemy, “All right. What was your question again?”  
Solas gave her a look. Winter shrugged innocently, “What? I just want to make sure I answer correctly what you wanted to know! I’d hate to tell you the wrong thing.”  
He carefully considered how to word this, if he wasn’t exact she would wiggle out of a straight answer.  
“What happened to cause you to go from Dalish to solitary hermit?”  
She stopped walking near some bushes off the beaten path and turned away from him so she didn’t have to see his face when she admitted she had been thrown out like trash by her own people. She attempted a flippant tone.  
“They banished me from the clan.”  
“What do you mean they banished you?”  
She could feel Solas come up behind her. Winter crossed her arms tightly over her chest, afraid she would fall apart if she didn’t. This was an old hurt she never addressed, never spoke of, had carefully not thought about for years. The last thing she wanted to do was show too much emotion in front of him. She was going to run from facing that shitstorm of a breakdown until it ran her into the grave. She had only wanted to educate her people, help them preserve their true culture, not continue incorrect practices to false gods and had paid the price for it.  
She tried to keep her tone light, but it had a brittle edge, “Booted me out. Told me I was no longer welcome. Get my things and go. Never come back. No longer claim association with them; not considered part of the clan. Never darken their camp again. Told me to take a hike. I really don’t know how many more different ways I can say it to be clear.”  
“So you left?” Winter nodded glumly, “What else could I do? Why wouldn’t I leave after that? I packed my things and took off. I had no choice. And I’ve been on my own ever since, until I joined the Inquisition.”  
“Why did they banish you though? What prompted it?”  
Winter hunched her shoulders tigher, “They said I wasn’t respectful enough of the old ways.”  
“How so?” Solas’s mind was whirling. What could have happened to make a Dalish clan, which were nigh impossible to leave, just banish one of their own?  
“My face. I’ve been an adept hunter since I was very young, I could have had the blood writing at 17, but I said I didn’t want it; didn’t want the Vallaslin. So I was cast out.”  
“There has to be more to it than that.”  
Winter shrugged. “You asked what caused me to no longer be Dalish, that’s it,” her tone grew sarcastic, “I’m sorry if it’s not an exciting enough reason for you.”  
She waited a few breathes, “Well since we’re done here, let’s go back to ge-“  
“Why didn't you want to get the Vallaslin?”  
Winter huffed. “I said one question, this is definitely more than one.”  
Solas stepped around her until he was directly in front of her and looked at her face. Winter bit her lips and turned her head, resolutely avoiding eye contact. She watched him in her peripheral vision. But he just stood there with that patient expression on his face, like he could wait forever. She didn’t notice the burning curiosity in his eyes.  
Solas felt like he was on the verge of something here. She was finally opening up, albeit reluctantly. He was learning more about her and instead of satisfying his curiosity it made him want to know more. He needed to know why she didn’t want the blood writings.  
She slowly shuffled her arms so she could angle the crutch back and tried to shift away from him, but Solas reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “Winter, please.”  
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, glancing at him quickly before her gaze darted away again. “It just felt wrong. The Dalish are fools mired in a past they don’t remember, that they aren’t even sure of. I didn’t want to mar my face, dedicating my life to some supposed deity. That’s a commitment I didn’t want. I told you: my life belongs to me alone.” That was all the explanation she was going to give him, so it better be enough. It wasn’t even lies, just not the full truth. She risked a glance at him and thought she saw respect in his eyes.  
“Well, do you feel satisfied with our transaction of information? Can we go now?”  
Solas wasn’t sure what to do. His grip on her shoulder gentled and he rubbed gentle circles into them with his thumbs, “You continue to surprise me.”  
Winter closed one eye and squinted at him through the other, “Come again?”  
“You surprise me. That couldn’t have been easy for a young girl to do. To stand up for what you believed in against you entire clan, against their way of life, and then strike out on your own.”  
Winter flushed with pleasure at his praise, not expecting it. “I would have thought another elf would disprove. Rejecting our past or whatever. I’ve avoided most since.”  
“Maybe another Dalish Elf would, but I’m not Dalish. I’ve also had similar discourse, though not nearly on the same magnitude. I offered to share my findings in the Fade with them and they were less than receptive. Some even threatened violence. I spent most of my time on my own as well.”  
Some of the tension drained from Winter’s shoulders. She glanced at him again, “I’ll admit that makes me feel a little more at ease about you knowing you were also rejected by our people. You have some idea of how disconnected I feel.”  
“It wasn’t so bad for me. Rejection is easier if you have no personal stake in the matter. I only offered my findings to strangers, they dismissed it as folly. You were turned away by people who had known you all your life.”  
Winter gave a tiny shrug, her eyes focused inward, “I’m not exactly the most chummy of people. I was always a bit of a loner even before I was banished.” Her voice got softer and Solas had to lean in to hear her, “I just thought that the people who knew me all my life would be more accepting. That I had value even if it was different than what they were used to.”  
“Different how?”  
“I was a foundling in the woods. Never knew who my parents were or where I came from. I looked nothing like the other Elves in the clan. I’m told I was a trying youth. I just always remember hearing them talk about how I was too different.”  
“Different isn’t bad. You have value. You’ve made friends easily. In the past day alone I’ve seen you draw people to you without trying. It’s rather impressive for a ‘hermit’ as you claim to be.”  
Winter snorted, “You can tell by the way I limp around that I’m valuable? And you guys are only friendly with me because I’m some sort of curse bomb puzzle you all want to solve before it blows.”  
Solas shook his head, “You’re smart and resourceful. And I’ve only known the others a short time, I don’t think they would waste their time on just anyone.”  
She looked at him and lifted a brow, “Actually they said they only had an interest in me because you did. And you only took an interest in me because of the curse. So. We are back to I’m just another mystery to unravel.”  
Winter searched his face, when he didn’t say anything she nodded. “I thought so. This has nothing to do with my injury, we shouldn’t even be discussing it. I will get that other crutch and get back to the library; you should go on ahead. The sooner you cure me the sooner I can get back out in the field, where I can fade back into obscurity.”  
Solas didn’t know what to say at her abrupt change. One moment she was open and vulnerable, the next it was like someone slammed a door in his face and he was shut out. She took a step back out of his grasp, then another. “Tell anyone you know this about me, and I will cut your tongue from your head.” Her violet eyes glittered and her tone held so much promise behind it he believed her. She turned and started moving away.  
Winter wasn’t sure who she was more furious at, herself or him. She knew better than to tell people things. She knew better than to open up. And she did anyway. To someone she had met YESTERDAY. Just told one of her secrets. Why? Why why why? And he just stood there like a big idiot dope. And she was a big idiot dope. Now there was someone else out there who knew things about her. And she hated people knowing things about her. Ugh why was she so stupid and weak? For 24 hours someone shows a bit of interest in her and she spills everything. Was she so hard up for social interactions? She couldn’t even disappear into the night because of her damn leg.  
She heard him fall into step beside her but ignored him.  
“Winter… listen. Those may be the reasons why anyone took the time to talk to you at first, but I doubt those are the reasons they continue to talk to you. And the curse isn’t the reason I continue to seek out your company.”  
She tilted her head slightly in his direction, so he knew she was at least listening to what he was saying.  
“You yourself probably only started talking to me for superficial reasons.”  
“No, my cat was terrorizing you and you confronted me about it. If you recall I wasn’t too keen on conversation.”  
Solas continued over her, “And since then I’ve gotten to know you and I like your company.”  
“Well you shouldn’t, I’m prickly and will likely disappear at the first chance I get.”  
“That doesn’t change the fact that I enjoy it now.”  
Winter huffed and glanced at him, “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”  
“I believe there is an old adage about a pot calling a kettle black?”  
Winter gave her startled bark of a laugh. “Ok, touche.”  
She reflected on their conversation, not knowing what to say. Her lips twitched when she thought about the way the Dalish had disregarded him as a Dreamer as well. Seeing how worked up he got earlier, she can imagine how frustrated he was then, “Sorry I gave you so much flak about being a Dreamer by the way. I hope you realize I was purposely ribbing you earlier.”  
He nodded stiffly, “And yet you still think I’m the pain in the ass.”  
She looked at him and grinned, “Okay, I’ll make it up to you. For free I will warn you of something unpleasant that’s going to happen.”  
Solas was taking in her smile, when her meaning registered.  
“And how will you know ahead of time when something unpleasant is going to happen to me?”  
“Well if I’m not plotting it, which I can’t rule out at this point, I hear things around the keep. I will try to forewarn you.”  
“Does this mean you met Sera at the Herald’s Rest last night?”  
Winter’s grin widened, “It does indeed. She has the nicest things to say about you.”  
“I can imagine”  
“I won’t hold it against you.”  
They had gotten back to the stable. Blackwall had disappeared, likely helping drill the soldiers, but he left the crutch leaning against his table, finished as promised.  
Winter snatched it up, and put it under her free arm.  
“AH-HA this is great!” She quickly crutched around the stable before looking back up at Solas, “Okay, let’s go lift a curse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit maybe there's a little significance. My girl is very out of her element and doesn't feel like she belongs.
> 
> Also,  
> I freaking love the Bog Unicorn if you couldn't tell.
> 
>  


	4. Nothing. What's a motto with you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE MENTION. NO ONE IS RAPED, BUT THE TOPIC COMES UP.
> 
>    
> Also some fluff. Some cheesy shit going down. Prepare for that.
> 
> This picks up immediately where I ended the last one, so it jumps in quick.
> 
> I'm trying to do more dialogue, because I always hated in stories where they never have just random conversations and then fall in love.  
> Also I need practice at dialogue.  
> Some of it isn't super interesting, but love takes a foundation. And that foundation is stupid conversations at all hours of the day/night about random, unimportant things.

They set off toward the Keep. Winter was silent for a few moments, considering the curse, “Can it jump?”  
Solas gave her a confused look, “Can what jump?”  
“Curses. Once it’s activated in me, can it jump to someone else?”  
Solas grew thoughtful, “I have never heard of such a thing. But that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. I would not have thought someone could rip a hole in the sky, and yet the evidence is before our very eyes.”  
“So it’s possible that I’m infecting other people.”  
“We can’t rule it out. Although I’ve sensed no magic jumping from you to anyone else. We can ask Dorian when we get to the library. He was with you last night. Even if he was drinking I think he would have been able to tell if something happened.”  
“Then shouldn’t I be in isolation until we figure it out? Or in a place with minimum person interaction?”  
“Maybe”  
“Are you aware you aren’t very comforting at all or is it just another charming, unintentional aspect of your personality?”  
“Would you rather me lie and give you false reassurances?”  
Winter pursed her lips, “No, I’d probably take a swing at you for the insult. I’m just saying you could be more positive about the fact that I’ve been dealt a really shitty hand.”  
“If you like, I can compose an upbeat sonnet about it.”  
“Yes, that would be lovely. Try to come up with a dance while you’re at it. It’s impossible to be upset at bad news so long as it’s delivered via dance. That’s scientific fact”  
Solas gave her a slight smile, “I’m not much of a dancer.”  
“It’s the thought that counts. I may actually enjoy it more if you are bad. Might even make me feel better about the fact that I shuffle around like a flat-footed, mouth breather.”  
Solas chuckled, “You have a gift for descriptions.”  
“Thanks, I always have. My old clan Story Teller would often describe me as ‘uncouth, but effective’ in getting my point across. It was the closest thing to a compliment that old hag ever gave anyone.”  
“What was the name of the Clan you were banished from?”  
“Ah Ah, No dice. That is something I will not tell. Even if I wanted to, it’s part of being banished. I don’t and can’t mention our past association.”  
“Are you really going to follow the rules of a people who banished you?”  
Winter paused, considering his question, “Yes. But not for any reason you are thinking of.”  
“And what are your reasons?”  
Winter sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to drop it, “They may have banished me, but I don’t want anything more to do with them than they want to do with me. Say I’m out in the woods, and I come across some traders. They chitchat with me because I’m pretty and it’s awkward for me to just silently go through their wares. And they say, ‘Oh lone elf, don’t see that too often. Are you separated from your clan? What’s their name, we might be able to tell you their location’ and then I say ‘Clan Lav-kenshire’ and they go ‘oh we just passed them! We’ll make sure they know you are still alive’ And then they do. Or worse ‘oh THEM? Well we hate them so now we are going to kill you in punishment because they cheated us’ or something” Winter could kick herself, she almost accidentally let the name slip. Hopefully Solas didn’t notice. 

“So then I have to fight off these people in the woods for some association I don’t even have. It’s a secret I plan to take to my grave.”  
“Why would it be so bad if the Clan knew that someone had seen you?” “Because I’m banished! They would think I was out there telling people I was part of them, therefore all my actions would be a reflection of them. Fuck. That. They didn’t want me, I don’t want them. I will live or die by my own merit. I honed my skills, they didn’t teach me. No one there did anything beyond tolerate me; let alone know me, everything I have I earned myself or taught myself to do. They don’t get credit when they did nothing. Also, they banished me. They don’t get to know whether or not I’m still alive. It would ease their conscious to know I’m okay. And I’m spiteful enough that I don’t want them to have that peace of mind.”  
She was quiet a moment, “Plus if I do something bad I don’t want them to pay for it. I may not like them, but I trust humans less. Say I accidentally hunt on a nobles land? What if kill the wrong person? I don’t want some noble sending a small army to wipe out the Clan because someone died who deserved it.”

They had reached the stairs, and Solas indicated Winter should go up before him. He was worried about her toppling back on her crutches, he didn’t think about how her going first would put him around eye level with her hips. He tried to distract himself with the conversation.

“You kill people?”  
“Occasionally. As a Scout it’s unavoidable at some points.”  
“Before you were a Scout.”  
“It’s still unavoidable. As careful as I am, there’s been times when a small hunting party has chanced upon one of my camps. Sometimes they’ve been drinking and the men are…less than gentlemanly. Elves barely registering as people to some of these bastards. So I’ve slit a fair few throats. Shot a couple more with arrows. I don’t regret it and I definitely don’t lose sleep over it. Well I guess I technically lost sleep when I had to travel for days at a time, evading bounty hunters, but when I can sleep, I sleep well.”  
Solas stilled for a moment. A sudden rage had filled him, and he didn’t trust himself to speak just yet. If what she said was true, and he had no doubt it was, then there were new angles to his people’s fall that he hadn’t even considered. He knew it was bad for all Elves, but for a group of humans to attempt…THAT. And to Winter. Had she not been a skilled fighter, she would have suffered a terrible fate. He was consumed with a mad desire to met out retribution for her. The guilty parties were long dead, she had made sure of that, but the people who raised and bred such monsters, they could be made to suffer. 

“Hey are you okay? You’re turning red”  
He came back to the present. Winter had noticed he stopped walking, came back down a few steps, and was now on the step just in front of him, hunched over her crutches so they were about eye level. Her violet eyes were full of concern, as she peered first into one, then the other of his.  
“Are you getting over-heated? Do you need some water?” She put a cool hand against his forehead. “I can go get help if you need to sit down.”  
Solas reached up and grabbed her hand in his, “I am fine. It is you I am concerned about.”  
“Why? I’m moving just great, you’re the one who looks like his head is about to explode.”  
Solas shut his eyes and gently squeezed her fingers, a slight smile curling his lips at her obliviousness. He opened his eyes and saw the confusion written all over her face.  
“I just was not prepared to hear what you had to say. That you had to experience something like that is unspeakably awful.”  
Winter gave him an incredulous look, “It’s not exactly uncommon. At least I’m not helpless, I could fight back, and dispose of the problem. There are ample people out there not so lucky. You’re probably just never thought about this because you’re a mage. Anyone who comes across you in the wild, who isn’t a Templar, is going to give you a wide berth, not wanting to cross a spell flinger. Be burnt alive or transformed into a tree, whatever it is you mages do. Templar’s are just going to try and catch you to throw you in a Circle. And being a male, it’s much more likely a group of drunk, entitled nobles are going to want to do something like hunt you or try and kick the crap out of you to show you how manly they are; if not just leave you alone. Because again, mage. But it can be very dangerous to be out on your own as a woman, especially with the civil war going on.”

Solas was giving her a disbelieving look. Not only was she so matter-of-fact about all this, she was acting like _he_ was the crazy one for _thinking this was not normal_. His thoughts must have shone on his face, because she squeezed his hand back and gentled her tone, “I know it’s horrible. I know how horrifying it is. I know it shouldn’t be happening, but it is. I just can’t dwell on it or I’ll go crazy. People being awful is part of the reason why I am a hermit you know.”  
She couldn’t tell him she actually got visions of which nobles were inclined to such loathsome behavior. On their own lands, Nobles were the law. No one could stop them, lest they petition someone higher. And no one believed the common folk over the Nobles. That’s assuming the common folk knew how to petition a higher authority as well. In these instances her camps were actually well laid traps, sprang on the would be offenders. Sometimes she got them before anyone else was hurt, sometimes the only solace in the kill was that they could no longer hurt others. But either way, she was not shy about killing. She left quickly, sometimes she was pursued, sometimes not. She was always able to evade the parties hunting after her; her Sight always guided her when there was true danger to her life. It helped that she never left anyone alive to describe her. 

Solas was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do with the information. “How can you be so calm about this?”  
Winter shrugged, her face transforming into a feral mask, “Because I know they suffered to their last breathes. And I made sure they knew why.”  
Solas released her hand to put his own behind his back, the temptation yank her to him, to capture her lips was too much. She was so fierce. He hadn’t thought to find someone like her in this age, and her pull on him seemed to only get stronger. The world kept pummeling her, and instead of breaking she rose and overcame each challenge.  
Winter shook her head to clear it. Solas was looking at her so intently she felt her belly fill with heat. Not knowing what else to do she reached out, tweaked his nose to break the tension, and continued up the stairs. It was very slow going. She had to be sure each crutch was on the stair above her, then quickly hop up with her good leg. She was grateful for Solas’s solid presence at her back, although she would never admit it to him. She was also surprised at her own casual touching of him, something she never did with anyone. But she hadn’t gotten any more visions from him, so maybe that was putting her more at ease? Shouldn’t that make her more nervous, not knowing? Maybe it was because he carried her so much she felt familiar with him? Going up these stairs, she actually missed being carried. Stairs sucked. Inclines sucked. Not being able to walk regularly sucked. Curses sucked. She was sorely tempted to break her crutches to get in his arms again. 

“Aren’t you worried about their families catching up to you? I know you said there have been bounty hunters, but what if they keep coming for you?”  
“I have the advantage that they don’t know what I look like. They just have the camps and bodies to go off of. They can track my movements, but it’s easy to disappear in nowhere when you need to. Plus there’s a few tricks I’ve done to disguise my looks in case they ever get close enough to see me. Relatively easy things that wash out. Disappearing is kind of my speciality.”  
“Such as…?”  
“Ha, as if I’d tell. You said yourself you thought you would be able to catch me if I took off, if I give you my tricks I’d be handing that victory to you. No, I’ll keep it to myself in case we ever have to test that theory.” Or I need to make a quick getaway, she added silently.  
Solas pushed back his dark thoughts of moments before, to think about later when he could. He concentrated on this new direction the conversation had taken.  
“You seem pretty confident.”  
“I just told you I’ve evaded bounty hunters with ease, YOU seem pretty confident. Since when do mages know how to track people? I’m intrigued. Makes me wish I were healthy so we could settle this matter.” She flashed him a cocky grin over her shoulder, “I wouldn’t rub it in too much when I won” She frowned in consideration, “Although there have been times when I’ve gotten fed up and have hunted the hunters…that’s a lot more interesting.” She raised a challenging brow at him.  
Solas raised his own in answer and felt himself smiling, “A tempting prospect. What would be the terms?”  
Winter spun back around as she waved her hand dismissively, “Hypothetical at this point. Consider this more motive to cure me, then after spending so much time together if we still want to test which of us is a better hunter, we’ll see. But you have important things to do, and I have other important things to do. Plus with the end of the world looming, our schedules are pretty booked.”  
They had turned the corner and were now at the next stairs, the ones leading up to front of the keep. He heard Winter mumble, “fucking stairs” before starting up them. She was moving more carefully, the open air likely making her nervous. He subtly moved closer, in case she slipped.  
“You’re implying that you don’t think I’ll enjoy your company if we spend more time together.”  
“Well yea. That’s kind of been my life experience. Were you not paying attention earlier? People who knew me since I was a child wanted nothing to do with me after 17 years. A few days will have you heading for the hills.”  
“Actually by that logic, we have 17 years before I get sick of you.”  
Winter laughed, “Is that so? And was that optimism? I wasn’t aware you knew it’s correct application.”  
“I don’t practice it regularly. There are many things about me that you are unaware.”  
Winter paused where the stairs angled to let some workers pass while glaring at the steps leading to the door, “Oh yea? Like what?”  
“I believe if we are keeping with our agreement earlier, you have to tell me something about you before I share. Tit for tat? Weren’t those your words?”  
Winter twisted to give him an appraising look, “More bargaining? I don’t have anything more that is interesting to tell you about myself.”  
“Then tell me something uninteresting.”  
“Hmmm okay….my favorite color is purple. No wait, red. Or is it purple? Okay, it may be a tie.” Winter snapped her fingers, “No, it is red. Purple is my second,” she looked at him, waiting for his answer.  
She was hunched over her crutches, patiently off to the side as more people went by, not wanting to risk getting knocked off the edge. She looked adorable with her hat askew and her hair blowing in the wind. He didn’t remember seeing her grab it but she must have when she picked up the second crutch.  
“Green, but I’m pretty fond of purple as well.”  
Winter rolled her eyes but smiled, “You can’t piggy back off my answers”  
“I’m not. I have my own reasons.”  
“Then why purple?”  
“There are these little flowers that smell….calming, clean, and fruity. They are very a particularly pleasing shade of purple.” He looked into her eyes and smiled, “They also have useful magical properties. They aid in entering the Fade and protection.”  
“These flowers have a name?”  
“Lilacs”  
She gave him an impish grin, “Lilacs huh?”  
Solas gave her a slight smile in return, acknowledging he knew what she was hinting at.  
Winter let it go, not quite brave enough to go down that path with him. Yet.  
“Why do you like purple?”  
“It’s a soothing color. I look good in purple.” She shot him a mischievous grin, “It’s also the color of mystery.”  
Solas’s tone was dry, “You don’t have to tell me.”  
“So you like a color because it’s from a useful flower?” She finally started up the rest of the stairs.  
“You like the same color because you like the way you look in it.”  
Winter snickered, “Fair enough. I can be vain. But I roll around in mud and trees all day. Sometimes it’s nice to just be comfortable and pretty. In clothes that aren’t made of metal. Nothing wrong with that. You don’t wear your armor while you’re in the keep, surely you understand.”  
“See, and you thought that your favorite color was uninteresting and insignificant.”  
“Do you see meaning in everything?”  
“There is meaning in most everything.”  
“So then why green? Is it because it’s the color of the Fade?”  
“You tell me why red first.”  
“Hmm I don’t think I want to tell you. If you got I can be vain just from my fondness for the color purple, who knows what my actual favorite color will reveal? You know more about me than I normally let people know anyway. A girl needs some secrets.”  
Solas actually snorted, “You are nothing but secrets.”

They had just gotten to the top of the stairs when Winter suddenly stiffened, and tried to shuffle quickly to the side. She wasn’t quite fast enough, as someone came rushing out of the keep and charged down the stairs. Had she not moved they would have collided and both fallen. The momentum and the air movement made her stumble back into Solas, her back flush against him. He grabbed her hips to stabilize her. Even through her armor Winter was acutely aware of how warm and solid he was. Her head fell to the right of his, his breath tickling her left ear. It was causing her stomach to do funny things and her heart to race. After a few breathes he whispered, “Are you okay,” in her ear and it sent chills down her spine.  
She took a deep, shaky breathe, “I think so, that was close.”  
When she was pushed back into him, Solas reacted without thinking, instinctually clutching her to him. Her hair was in his face and her scent surrounded him. Lilacs, gooseberries, and something that was all her. He couldn’t resist taking a deep breath, trying to decipher what it was. It was wild and reminded him of the forest at night, of ages long ago. He felt inexplicably homesick. It made him subconsciously hold her tighter, not wanting to give her up so easily.  
Winter shifted slightly and turned her head, meeting Solas’s eyes, “I guess that’s two I owe you.” Her breath smelled like mint and it played across his cheek. Solas bit back a groan at the friction of her rotating in his arms while being pressed up against him, the metal of her armor roughly scratching him through his tunic.  
His eyes were hooded as they looked at her, “How do you plan to make it up to me?”  
She gave him a coy smile, “No idea. But I am currently taking suggestions.”  
Solas tightened his fingers. He knew he should step away but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t understand this overwhelming attraction he felt for her nor did he seem to be able to reign it in.  
Winter swallowed. She was in unfamiliar territory. She had Seen flirting and romance a million different times in a million different ways. Seen it end in harmless fun or someone’s untimely end. She had Seen it topple empires and offer salvation. She had even Seen herself flirting with various people, but she had never experienced it first hand. She was both an expert and a novice, always backing out because she knew how things would end. Which was why she should be even more wary of Solas, the future was a blank. But instead she was intrigued and drawn to him, even without the vision telling her he was important. She was becoming addicted to the way he made her feel, it was similar to how she felt during a good fight, gloriously alive. It was exhilarating. 

What would have happened at the top of the stairs, how far things would have gone she didn’t know. 

Varric’s voice drifted through the door, “I’m not sure where they are Dorian, I haven’t seen them since they left together last night, although did you check Solas’s room?” Winter and Solas both froze, realizing how out in the open they were and how inappropriate this was at the same time. Winter pulled away from Solas and straightened her tunic, “Sorry, and thanks again for not letting me plummet to my death.” She brushed imaginary dust off her front to avoid looking at him.  
Solas straightened his own tunic, “I’m glad for that as well. And I apologize for…” He trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.  
Winter glanced at him, “What are you sorry for?”  
“I’m not positive, but I feel like I should be.”  
Winter gave him a searching look, “If you say so” and she walked through the door.  
Varric immediately spotted them and yelled through the doorway, “Dorian, I found them! They just walked in to keep! And they do look guilty!”  
Winter rolled her eyes at him, “To look guilty we would have had to have done something to be guilty of.”  
“Then where have you two been all morning?”  
Winter shrugged, “The bathhouse, and before that Blackwall made me these crutches.”  
Varric’s face lit up, “You two went to the bathhouse together?”  
Winter gave him an odd look, “Yea…” then realization hit, she wasn’t thinking straight after the moment with Solas on the stairs, “oh Andraste’s cankles, not like that! Solas escorted me. There’s a new theory on my curse and I’m to be kept moderately away from other people, in the off chance I’m a danger to them. So he made sure it was empty.”  
Varric smirked, “I bet he did make sure you two were alone.”  
Winter rolled her eyes as she passed him, “I’m no longer dignifying you with a response.”  
“That’s okay, you’ve given me enough of your dignity for now.”  
Winter stuck her tongue out at him and was through the door. Varric swung back around to Solas, “Don’t worry Chuckles, with our help you’ll be sure to get the girl.”  
“I assure you, Child of Stone, I do not need your help in this.”  
Varric didn’t respond as he took in Solas’s expression, which was rather more intense than normal as he passed. He chortled to himself, Solas had it bad.

Solas almost collided with Winter when he turned the corner and she was just standing there glowering at the steps up to the library. She turned to him, “Have there always been this many cursed stairs in this place?”  
Solas smiled, “You turned down my offers of assistance. I could still carry you if you want.”  
Winter blew a razzberry at him as she started up the steps, “Sure, brag some more about how stairs are no problem for you. No one likes a show off Solas.” She refused to admit even to herself how tempting it was to let him carry her.  
Dorian voice filtered down from the top, “That can’t be true. Because I do nothing but show off and I’m adored.”  
Winter called up the stairwell, “By yourself, which doesn’t count”  
“On the contrary, it counts more than anyone. Who’s opinion should matter most if not your own?”  
Winter took a few more steps, considering, “Fair point. I’ll concede. If only so I can concentrate on vanquishing these stairs. I think I may just move into the library until this is sorted out. So not worth it.”  
“I don’t know why you insisted on crutches when there are so many men lined up for the chance to carry you. Especially after last night. There were more than a few who inquired about you after you disappeared you know.”  
Winter almost missed a step, and Solas grabbed her hips again. He shot Dorian a nasty look.  
She regained her footing and came to the top of the stairs, Solas still hovering behind her. Winter was so preoccupied she didn’t notice how close he was, but Dorian watched it all with a smirk.  
Winter gave him an incredulous look, “No they didn’t. Tell me you are lying.”  
Dorian gave her a wide grin, taking in Winter’s panicked look and how Solas was doing his best to maintain a calm expression, but his hands were clenched. He also didn’t miss the casual contact between the two, the way Solas possessively held her.  
“I’m most certainly not lying. Your rather hasty exit was to the disappointment of many. There were talks about dragging you back for an encore. Maryden in particular was against that plan…you may have a rival in that one. Anyway, a number of young men, and even a few ladies, asked Varric about your availability.”  
Winter groaned, “that reminds me, I have to think of some suitable revenge for making me do that.”  
“You blame me? You’re the one who was talking a big game. You should blame yourself for not being able to back it up.”  
“You cheated!”  
“You still have no proof of that.”  
Winter ground her teeth, “And what did Varric tell these would-be suitors when they asked about me?”  
Dorian gave her a winning smile, “The truth of course, what you’ve been telling us all along. That you are not attached to anyone. Free as a bird. And accepting applicants. Well that last part he may have added for his own amusement”  
Winter spun around, almost colliding with Solas. “You may want to move, I’m going to have to go and kill a certain dwarf.”  
Solas gave her a calm look, “If you go down the stairs you will have to come back up them again.” He was relieved enough at her reaction to be charitable to the dwarf, whom he suspected actually said the exact opposite. For the moment. He wasn’t sure what he would do the first time someone actually approached Winter. But judging by her reaction, he wasn’t sure what Winter would do the first time someone approached her either.  
“Worth it, I have two blunt objects that are just begging for blood. Daggers would be too quick.”  
Dorian cleared his throat, “So was that the wrong answer? Are you attached to someone?”  
Winter gritted her teeth and turned back around, but Dorian was innocently looking through a book, feigning nonchalance.  
“You realize I don’t have to go down the stairs to beat on you”  
“You can’t beat on me, you need me to help research a way to counteract the curse.”  
Winter advanced menacingly, not an easy feat on crutches but she managed,“Last I checked you didn’t need all your teeth for that.”  
Dorian laughed and retreated, “Take it up with Varric, I was merely a blameless bystander.”  
Varric voice floated up the stairs, “Don’t listen to him Wint, he’s the one telling everyone you are looking for a bit of casual fun.”

Winter let out a wordless screech and attempted to launch herself at Dorian, but Solas caught her around her midsection before she could. She dropped one crutch and was waving the other in a threatening manner at Dorian, who had retreated to the other side of the circle. The other library patrons were watching with interest.  
“Let me go! I’m going to kill him!”  
Solas attempted to reason with her, “In front of all these witnesses? I thought you wanted his help?”  
“I’ll take out the witnesses next! And what if I just maim, not kill!” She was struggling valiantly but Solas had a solid grip around her middle, holding her off the ground; she was surprisingly strong. He got a good idea of how formidable she would be once healed and in a fight.  
An older Chantry Mother came up the stairs and looked at everything disapprovingly, “What is going on here?”  
Winter didn’t stop her efforts, “What does it look like? I’m going to kill that Vint over there. Solas, let me go!” She was still swinging the crutch with both hands and kicking her good leg.  
“This is not proper etiquette befitting anyone, particularly not a young lady!” Mother Giselle turned her frosty glare on Dorian, “Or a gentleman”  
Winter was finally calming down, realizing that Solas was a lot stronger than she was currently. That or she hadn’t been able to practice in so long she was a lot weaker than she thought. He wasn’t even winded. She hated him and was not at all turned on by his manhandling. Nope, not even a bit. She almost fooled herself. She stopped struggling but he still held her off the ground. 

She turned toward Mother Giselle,“Woah, I never once claimed to be a lady. I’m actually very proudly an uncivilized savage.”  
Dorian was cautiously coming back around, giving Winter a wide berth, “And I don’t remember claiming to be a gentleman.”  
Winter narrowed her eyes at him, “And before this moment I bet not one person has ever accused you of being one as well.”  
Dorian shrugged, “Roguish charm suits me better. Gentlemen are so boring.”  
Winter nodded, “So are ladies. Do you know they don’t go out at night unchaperoned? All the best things happen at night unchaperoned!”  
Dorian nodded enthusiastically, “I know! That’s the only time I go out!”

Mother Giselle cleared her throat, “Irregardless, you are both members of the Inquisition and should conduct yourselves as such. If not for your own sakes, then for the sake of the Inquisitor. What will our Noble guests think, to hear shouts of murder? To see such wild behavior?”  
Winter ventured a guess with a half shrug, “I better not piss off that Scout or she’ll kill me?”  
Mother Giselle was not amused and the lines of her frown deepened.  
Solas smoothly interjected, “Don’t worry Mother, I will handle the matter and explain to them both they should be on their best behavior. Now if you will excuse us, we actually have a lot of work to do, it’s very important.”  
Winter threw up her hands, “Okay, okay, I’ll stop trying to bludgeon Dorian. For now. Definitely not indoors. I’ll do it later.” She glanced behind her, “Solas, the danger has passed, you can set me down now.”  
Mother Giselle eyed the apostate, whom had been nothing but polite and courteous. He did seem to have a firm grip on the loud woman in his arms, who was indeed calmed down. She gave a curt nod and headed back down the stairs. Winter stuck her tongue out at her back. She looked at Dorian and he winked, causing Winter to make a rude gesture at him, then draw her finger across her throat. He laughed as he turned to get back to work.

Solas slowly set her on her feet and picked up her other crutch. She gripped it, her hand over his, startling him into meeting her eyes, “Thank you,” she gently squeezed his fingers and let go of his hand, sitting at the first table, her back to the staircase.  
Solas shook his head as he picked up the book he had been looking through earlier. Now that Winter was within his sight he could focus back on the real problem.

Winter looked around the Library, and noticed all the other patrons turned away rather quickly whenever she looked their way. She mentally cackled, maybe now her reputation as crazy would spread and she would be spared people coming up and trying to court her. She hoped so, otherwise she wasted a good scene for nothing. Knowing how the day was going to go she set back and stopped holding back her visions. 

The first she got were insignificant ones. Fiona questioning a tranquil about something tedious and magey. One of the serving boys and a Scout met here at night for a secret tryst. Pretty boring, standard stuff.  
The next one made her tense up, her mouth full of lead. Death. Sometime tomorrow Lelianna would get a message via one of her birds. The Inquisitor was due back in a week, and she had some devastating news about the Wardens. Her trip with Stroud and Hawke had uncovered the source of the demon army from the year that wasn’t. Winter gulped, Seeing what was happening, what was going to happen at Adamant. She opened her eyes and automatically sought out Solas, the Inquisitor would request that he accompany her, since he was the resident expert on the Fade, spirits, and demons. Which of course he would, it was why he was here after all. The thought of him going made her heart give a weird spasm. She tried telling herself it was because she really wanted him to break the curse, but she was afraid for him, and the others. Afraid of what was going to happen when they went and afraid of what would happen if they didn’t go. Adamant was going to be an ordeal.  
And she couldn’t even warn them. The hope for the world was walking into a nightmare and she could do nothing.  
How would she explain how she, a Scout who could barely walk and avoided everyone, knew the Wardens were practicing blood magic on such a large scale? Sacrificing their own to summon demons, turning themselves into an army for the enemy? She couldn’t warn them of the danger about Livius Erimond. He had Corypheus’ dragon up his sleeve. The demon he was trying to get Clarel was literally the stuff of nightmares. She Saw the mages turned into mindless slaves and her stomach turned. All that senseless death. 

And since she took great pains to make sure she didn’t officially join the Inquisition, they would assume she was a spy if she came forward with the extent of the Warden’s folly. She couldn’t even warn Blackwall, because it would raise too many questions. He would have to do some fancy lying in the days to come to keep his cover.  
She slumped forward, putting her head in her hands and resting it on the table in front of her. Her hands were tied. And now she had to sit on this information. She tried to See what would happen, what the outcome would be, but only saw headstones. Her blood chilled until she realized what they were. A small plot in a green wasteland. All the Inquisitor’s inner circle had markers. Their biggest fears were their epitaphs; nightmares. This was a demon trying to break them.  
Bull’s was madness. Dorian’s temptation. One by one she Saw them all, and lastly she Saw Solas’. Dying Alone. She felt her heart constrict. It was her own fear. And probably her future. It was too much information; she was overwhelmed and didn’t notice when tears started leaking down her cheeks. Maybe that’s what drew her and Solas to one another, an aching loneliness the other shared.

Solas came over when he saw Winter slump over, concerned. He gently touched her shoulder. Winter jerked up. Solas sat down when he saw her face, she had been crying, but was doing her best to feign indifference. “Are you all right?”  
Winter gave him a confused look, “Yea, why?” He lightly tapped his own cheek. Winter reached up, still confused, and felt moisture on her own.  
“Well shit, that’s unexpected.”  
“Is there something bothering you?”  
“This…ah…this is just something that happens sometimes. It’s no big deal.”  
She quickly scrubbed her face. Solas leaned forward, “You know you can tell me. You don’t have hold it in. I’d like to be someone you consider a friend.”  
Winter met his gaze, his face was open and he seemed genuine. She opened her mouth, “It’s just that…it’s not…well…it’s…, “she shook her head, “truly not anything you should concern yourself over. Just please fix me so I can stop being so helpless.” Winter chickened out; Solas was too smart and too curious. And too tempting. She had to look away, afraid that the gentle patience on his face would crack her resolve and she would spill everything to him. Which was a terrible idea, she reminded herself. 

If anyone knew of her ‘gift’ she would be hunted the rest of her days. She didn’t need foresight to See that. She would be a boon to too many, her life would never be her own again. What ruling power wouldn’t want someone who could see the future at their beck and call? And how long until she Saw something that someone didn’t like and they came for her head? Saw their secrets, as she so often did, and they wanted to silence her? She couldn’t tell, especially not to someone whom she hadn’t known more than 24 hours, no matter of how their fates were intertwined.  
Solas nodded, disappointed. She had been close to opening up, but at the last moment had shut down again.  
Solas pushed himself up from the bench, Winter grabbed his hand, “I appreciate it. Maybe…some other time. Also, I may not be very very connected to the Fade,” she gave him a ghost of a smile, “but if you bring me some books I may be able to look through them. Help the cause.”  
Solas’s lips quirked in response. He nodded and brought over a couple tomes. 

Hours crawled past in relative silence. The books were very dry reading, and they were mainly about herbs and potions. None of them mentioned curses. But she now knew more than she ever wanted about how to distill elf root to mix with blood lotus to cure foot fungus, among other things. She gave Solas a suspicious look, guessing he gave her a harmless book he knew was a dead end. When she looked at the title of the next volume she was sure of it. A codex of the different schools of magics.  
Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she opened it. After 3 seemingly never-ending chapters Winter shut the book forcefully and looked around. While she had been immersed, the library had slowly cleared. It was just her and Dorian, Solas has slipped out somewhere when she was spaced out instead of reading about Primal spells. She had given Solas the benefit of the doubt and it had bitten her in the ass, she would find no answers in these tomes. Winter set her book down with a disgusted noise. It broke whatever reverie Dorian was in and he came over, “No progress either?”  
“Not unless you think the counter-curse lies in descriptions of different specialties of magic.”  
Dorian looked at the books around her, “All of these have barely anything to do with casting magic, just background information, why would you go through them?”  
Winter looked annoyed, “Solas gave me these when I mentioned wanting to help earlier. I assumed he knew what he was doing. Now I’m assuming he’s an ass who considers me ignorant. If he’s trying to trick me into learning things I will punch him…”  
Dorian stretched, “How dare he try to culture you! The nerve! Incidentally, are you always this violent or have we just caught you on a good day?”  
Winter gave him a dirty look, “Of course I’m always this violent. Like we’ve been saying, I’m a barbaric hermit. I solve all my problems with my fists, blades, or arrows depending on how close to the problem I am. And don’t think I forgot that I owe you. Next time no Chantry Mother will come to let you hide behind her skirts. And no Solas to hold me back”  
Dorian snorted, “I hardly think she came to my rescue on purpose. Mother Giselle has very, ah, mixed feelings about me. Typically dislike and distrust are the feelings being mixed.”  
“Well I’ve personally known you a day, and you have cheated at cards, picked a fiendish punishment for losing after you cheated, and have tried to ruin my life with suitors. I’d say she has good reason to dislike and distrust you.”

Dorian gave her a mock offended look, “I didn’t do any of those things to _her_ and I’ve known her a lot longer than you. I am perfectly polite in pretending she doesn’t exist. Plus you still like me.”  
Winter shook her head, “What in the world is wrong with me that that’s true?”  
Dorian patted her hand, “Absolutely nothing. There would be something wrong with you if you didn’t.”  
“No…I’m pretty sure it means there’s something wrong with me that I do.” Her face sharpened, “And what do you mean I’m uneducated? What are you implying here?”  
Dorian waved away her concern, “Don’t be offended. It’s just you don’t keep it a secret that you live out in the middle of nowhere. A lot of these books have practical herb recipes that anyone can use in them. Perhaps this is his sly way of making sure you have the best chance of survival.”  
“I have lived on my own for years just fine! I don’t think I need survival tips at this point in my life.” She couldn’t tell him that she could prevent most injuries with her Sight, and when she needed it, it had always shown her what remedies to use, sometimes even effective forgotten ones of the past, and sometimes surprising ones not yet discovered.  
Dorian gave her a skeptical look, “You’re cursed and you can barely walk.”  
Winter gave him a sour look in return, “This only happened when I came around other people! Which proves my theory that you’re better off on your own. Away from others. People are the worst.”  
Dorian cocked his head to one side, “Do you truly mean that? Has it been so terrible being around so many?”  
Winter twisted her lips, “Yes and no. I just don't do so well around large groups. Crowds…” she tried to think of a way to put it, “crowds make me nervous.” And temporarily deaf, blind, and overwhelmed, she added silently. Not to mention the force of the headaches if she held off her visions left her abed for a day. “The mob mentality. Too many things to watch at once, you can’t ever be sure of your safety. Surely you have some idea of what I mean. Aren’t you nervous? Being a mage from Tevinter in an anti-mage country that hates Vints? Who are kind of half of Corypheus’ army? A lot of people don’t care that there’s a difference.”  
Dorian shrugged, “I came here to help and I trust that speaks for itself. Plus I’m a very powerful necromancer. Southerners are so weird about death, I think if nothing else they would leave me alone for that.”  
Winter slumped her shoulders again, “Well that’s the difference. Your mage-ness scares them so they give you a wide berth, you’re tolerated but still given some regard. Plus you’re human. I bet you don’t even look where you’re going when you walk, expecting the oncoming person to move out of your way. I’m mundane and invisible so I get crowded. Or worse, grabbed, shoulder checked, insulted, or yelled at. It hasn’t really happened here at Skyhold, which is probably why I’m so social now,” she shot him a grin, inviting him to share the joke, “but I avoid cities like the plague.”  
Dorian’s face was unreadable. Winter blinked at him, “What?”  
“I just never considered that before. How different it must be for…” He trailed off awkwardly.  
Winter chuckled darkly, “You can say it. It’s not exactly a secret that Elves are considered second class citizens. I imagine it’s worse for them in Tevinter. You’ve never had reason to think about it, didn’t know better.” She stretched, and turned sharply, causing her spine to crack, “But sure, I’m the uneducated one. And don’t go feeling too sorry for me. I’m a very accomplished pickpocket so they pay me handsomely for those insults.”  
Dorian laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind.” But gave her a pointed look as a thought occurred to him, “Although everyone knows mages curse their purses, so pickpocketing one would be a terrible plan.”  
Winter twisted sharply the other way, causing her back to pop again,“Dully noted, one curse is enough for me.” She reached into her own pocket, “And in light of that new information here is this back. So I hope I’m only cursed if I open it. Unless you were bluffing?” Dorian’s coin purse hit the table with a small thud and chink of coins.  
Dorian gaped at her, feeling his pockets, “When did you even get that??”  
Winter gave him a smug smile, “It’s better if you don’t know.” He grabbed his purse and tucked it back into a pocket, “I see I’ll have to reevaluate some things.”  
She gave him a sardonic smile, “Probably for best. If I have to get an education, you have to get an education.”

Dorian gave her a serious look, “And you my dear, are far from mundane. I personally think you are remarkable.”  
Winter blushed, “Well keep it to yourself for the Andraste’s sake! The last thing I need is it getting out that I’m good company! I’m hoping that gossip Mother Giselle tells everyone I’m a wild savage and I get a reputation.”  
Dorian laughed delightedly, “So that earlier, you trying to bludgeon me, that was all an act to tarnish your reputation?”  
Winter gave him a smug smile, “Mostly. I did really want to beat on you and Varric, but it was such a golden opportunity for a scene I had to take it. All those witnesses? The way sound travels in this room? There’s a reason the Roost is upstairs. Golden opportunity”  
Dorian laughed and rose, he had noticed Solas lurking in the doorway, “See? Remarkable. I humbly salute your unparalleled craftiness in envy.” He turned his head, “Solas! There you are. I was just discussing these book choices with Winter, and how little they had to do with actual curses.”  
Winter’s expression clouded and she turned to give Solas an accusatory glare.  
Dorian smiled at him, “Well they are expecting me down at the Herald’s Rest. Winter I don’t suppose you’d like to join me…” He trailed off as Winter turned her cool gaze on him, “Thought not. I’ll see you two tomorrow!” He made a hasty retreat.  
Solas pressed his lips together, Dorian gave him a shit eating grin as he passed him on the way down the stairs.  
Winter turned back to the table, her shoulders tense. Solas came around with a dinner pail, hoping food would distract her. At least Dorian had tipped him off as to why she was less than happy with him.  
He sat down across from her, holding the food out as a peace offering.  
Winter was sat there, stoney-faced. Solas sighed, “I don’t think you are uneducated.”  
“Oh really? Then why are all these foundation books or books with practical applications?”  
Solas opened his mouth, but Winter cut him off, “You know, I could almost see the herb ones, because maybe there’s a way to lift curses if you throw enough elfroot, I don’t know, but mages? Why in the world would you have me read about mages?”  
Solas leaned back in the chair, “Because earlier you made a comment about mages transforming people into trees. If you don’t have a grasp of the background of different mage abilities, how would you know what to look for in more advanced volumes?”  
Winter narrowed her eyes, she had a feeling she wasn’t getting the whole truth, “Is that your only reason?”  
Solas regarded her carefully, “I wanted you to understand mages better.”  
Winter got the sense he was trying to tell her something here, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what. “Why?”  
Solas’s expression was carefully neutral, “Maybe I want you to understand me better.”  
Winter’s eyes widened, “Oh” She looked back at the book, “Wait, why?”  
“Because I want to understand you. But you don’t give information out freely, so maybe if you know more about magic you will be more at ease with me. Do mages not make you nervous?”  
His admission caused her heart to pound, “What is there to understand? I’m not interesting. I’m a solitary person because I was banished as a teen by people who were supposed to be my family. Textbook example of abandonment issues. Case closed, I’m not more interesting than that.”  
Solas gave her a gentle smile, “Just because you keep saying you are uninteresting won’t make it true. You are very intriguing. There’s much more to you than that. And you never answered my question.”  
Winter squirmed in her seat, “Fine, mages make me nervous.”  
Solas leaned forward and looked at her earnestly, “I don’t want to be one of those mages. So please read the book. The first step to banishing fear is knowledge.”  
She glanced at the book then at him, “Fine. But if I suddenly become an insufferable know-it-all, that’s on you.”  
“Then we will be appropriately matched, many believe I am already an insufferable know-it-all.”  
Winter’s lips twitched, “You may be a little heavy handed, but I don’t think you are insufferable. And speaking of heavy handed, why not just ask me to read this book outright instead of sneaking it to me?”  
“I was not sure if you would be receptive.”  
She brushed her hand over the cover, “Well, if we are going to be friends, I guess I could read it as a favor to said friend.” She smiled at him from under her lashes, “I would tell you to stop being underhanded with me, but if we’re honest I’m not going to stop with playing dirty with you. And at the very least friends shouldn’t be hypocrites. I don’t think anyway, I’ve never really had friends so I’m not sure.” She looked at him with such earnest openness it made his chest ache, “You may have to help me. I’m not sure how to be a friend, much less how to be close to people.”  
Solas gave her a gentle look, “Truthfully I am not so good at it either. We’ll make it up as we go.”  
She gave him a half grin, “Perfect. That’s my life motto anyway. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.”  
Solas gave her a challenging grin in return, “In any case, I’m glad to have your blessing to be less than forthright in our interactions. Now I won’t feel guilty”  
Winter laughed, “Like I’m supposed to believe you felt remorse for tricking me into giving out information. Any regret you may have felt was that I didn’t reveal more.”  
“That’s true, but if it’s allowed I don’t have to be so delicate about it. Maybe I would have felt guilty in the future.”  
“Well then it’s decided, we will both be sneaky, underhanded brutes trying to ferret out the other persons secrets.” Her tone darkened, “This is probably not going to end in disaster. No way this is a bad idea.” She brightened again, voice challenging, “Also, I’m going to win”  
Solas gave her a wolfish grin, “Friendship is not a competition. And only time will tell who wins.” He would definitely try to seek her out in the Fade tonight. She had practically given him permission.  
Winter gave him a predatory grin in return, “I look forward to it.”  
She realized they were both leaning over the table, faces inches from each other and her mouth went dry. She gulped, needing a distraction from how she was suddenly aware that her thoughts were venturing into decidedly unfriendly territory. She would have never guessed she had a thing for cocky men, “Okay, so I’m starving, what’s in the bucket?”  
Solas produced some chunks of bread, hard cheese, and an apple for each of them. Winter’s entire demeanor changed when she saw the apple. Her eyes lit up and she gave him a brilliant smile. Solas was immediately glad he had pilfered the fruit. She was looking at him like he had just hung the moon for her, over such a small thing. Her arm darted out and swiped the fruit, so fast it surprised him. She took a bite, closed her eyes in bliss, and hummed with pleasure, her tongue darting out to lick some juice from the corner of her lips. He had never met anyone who enjoyed anything as much as she enjoyed that apple, it made him wonder what else she would be enthusiastic about.  
Solas swallowed heavily, suddenly having improper thoughts and painfully aware that they were alone. For the third time that day he was tempted to kiss her. Would she be responsive? Receptive? If she was half as passionate in bed as she was about a simple apple…He stifled a groan. She was flirting with him earlier but flirting didn’t mean anything. She had finally agreed to be his friend, he didn’t want to jeopardize her finally beginning to trust him. 

Winter opened her eyes and looked at him, a blissful smile still on her face, that quickly turned puzzled. Solas looked uncomfortable and was gripping the edges of the table so hard his knuckles were white, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you hungry?” She looked down at her apple then back at him, “Did you poison this? Because when I said underhand I didn’t mean poisoning as a means to get information.”  
Solas willed himself to relax. “No it is not poisoned, I’m just tired.”  
Winter glanced around the empty library and the low candles, “I guess it is late. We should probably clear out once we finish eating too, this is the midnight tryst spot for a couple of people and I don’t want to be around when they stumble in.”  
Solas raised a brow, “And how would you know that?”  
Winter gave him an innocent look, “I told you I’m basically invisible when I want to be. People say things near me. I See things. It’s all very useful. I’m a damn good spy.”  
Solas was thoughtfully chewing some of the hard cheese. “What else do you know? About the people here?”  
Winter gave him a sly grin, “Quite a bit. I know something about just about everyone. You know what they say ‘Idle hands are the trickster Gods tools’ or whatever. I’ve been swimming in idle time. And you never know when you’re going to need to blackmail someone.”  
“Do you have anything on me?”  
“We just became friends, I may still need to blackmail you down the road. I can’t give up the goods now”  
Solas regarded her as he chewed some more cheese, “You don’t, do you?”  
Winter easily admitted her bluff, “No, you’re a mage. We’ve established I give you people a healthy dose of distance.” she paused, then amended, “Unless going for the kill.”  
She glanced around, “And this room is designed for sound to travel, so even if I was feeling charitable with my information, which I’m not, telling you in here is a terrible idea. Everyone would hear, and that would render the information useless. Or worse, make me enemies before I’m ready to have them.”  
Solas glanced around, remembering how Lelianna had easily spoken to him from the upper level. Winter truly was observant.  
A thought occurred to Solas, “Where do you plan on sleeping tonight? You said you normally sleep outside, but where? Surely that can’t be safe out in the open?”  
Winter gave him a sheepish look, “I said I sleep outside-ish. Not out in the open.”  
Solas was relentless, “So where?”  
Winter debated, but she supposed there was no harm in telling him, they were friends now after all. Her chest warmed at the thought. “I sleep in the stall with Cimmerian.”  
What he had been expecting it wasn’t that, Solas looked at her in surprise. “Isn’t that dangerous?”  
Winter shook her head, “Not for me. Safest place in the keep. That beautiful animated corpse is the best protector I could hope for.”  
“You seem very sure of that. Does she not make you nervous at all? How did you earn the affection of such a creature?”  
Winter’s chewing took on a contemplative quality. How to describe it? She couldn’t say that when she first laid eyes on Cimmi her mouth tasted of tungsten, indicating the beast was a strong and powerful protector. Tungsten meant magic resistant. It meant strength in difficult environments. She Saw Cimmi when she had been alive, a beautiful fierce beast. Saw her stuck down while defending her master. And had Seen her resurrected by the mages, at her masters request. But he hadn’t know what it was he was asking, and could no longer stomach looking at Cimmi after her transformation. She now possessed a curious intelligence, coming back from the other side had made her more aware. She understood what was happening, understood her abandonment. Winter had felt immediate kinship with the beast. The other Scouts and even the mages who had brought her back treated her with repulsion. The ones that weren’t attempting to perform experiments on her anyway. But since she was resistant to magic they couldn’t get very far. And they were too afraid to get close, Cimmi had taken out one with her sword who had tried. And since she didn’t eat or sleep everyone else was afraid to approach her, having no opportunities. She had no vulnerabilities. So the Inquisition was their solution, their way to get the Bog Unicorn problem out of their hair, and earn the favor of the Inquisitor. And Cimmi had again understood that she was being discarded again.  
But Winter treated her as she would any other mount. She was much better with animals than with people, much more relaxed around them. She had just did what she always did and crooned over Cimmi; Cimmi had responded. It was the first time someone hadn’t recoiled from her. Winter had understood how special she was; she would be a steadfast companion. Over the course of the trek back to Haven the bond had deepened.  
Winter realized she had been quiet for a really long time, but Solas was still just politely waiting for her answer, not rushing her. She felt a surge of affection for him, so often she got lost or distracted when talking to people, either from her thoughts or visions. Being alone for so long had it’s downfalls, and conversational skills weren’t her strong suit as a result. And nothing made her madder than someone snapping their fingers in her face to bring her back to the present, or worse, touching her. 

“No she doesn’t make me nervous at all. No more than I’m sure your spirit friends make you nervous.” She didn’t see the sharp look he shot her, he didn’t remember telling her about his association with spirits, but he supposed it was something she could have heard from around the keep. Especially since Cole had joined. Although most people forgot him… He filed it away to think of later, Winter was still talking, “When we went to retrieve her, she just seemed so…resigned. I heard the mages discussing her. She had been brought back from eternal rest for a purpose, but the person whom she had died protecting discarded her. She gave her life for him, was magnificent to the end. But she spooked him. He was afraid of what she had become. I guess he thought she would come back the same, unchanged after something like that. Everyone treated her with revulsion.” Winter looked into his eyes, and Solas was a little taken back at how stark they were, “I treated her like I would any other mount, and she took to me. We just get each other. No magic, I just wasn't a prat. Amazing how far that gets you, treating things with dignity”  
She had told him herself she had abandonment issues, in such bald terms. No doubt hoping her frankness would make her off-putting. She was upfront about what she considered faults, using them like armor against intimacy. Instead he found it refreshing. Too many people tried to hide what they were; pretend they had no faults.  
Solas could have never of guessed how instead of becoming indifferent, she would become a defender of sorts. She recognized herself in another and reached out, instead of lashing out. How kind she was underneath her proclamations of hating everyone and preference to be alone. She had exiled herself, but she didn’t completely wall herself away. Cimmi was the second castoff she had taken under her wing. It was yet another facet of her to consider, one that he found endearing. And she was being open with him, even if she didn’t realize. Telling him how she just wanted to be treated not like she was different. This was the key to get her to open up. She was candid about the living creatures important to her. Both animals had been abandoned and she had adopted them, quirks and all.  
Winter felt uneasy at the shrewd look on Solas’s face. She felt like she may have just revealed something else to him, but was unsure what meaning he could have taken from the story of how she met Cimmi.  
But he didn’t say anything about that, instead asking, “Are you planning on going all the way back down to the stables, just to come back up tomorrow morning?”  
Winter blanched. The thought of making that long trek again, with the crutches digging into her arms, the open stair cases, and passing all the people made her want to fling herself off the tower.  
“I suppose I can just sleep in here. Tuck myself into a chair in the corner. Pretend I am temporarily blind and deaf when that couple sneaks in.”  
“There is another solution.” Solas was nervous, he didn’t like the idea of her taking the stairs without him, and he didn’t know if she would accept his offer of escort. He also didn’t like the idea of her being so far away from him. Plus it would be easier to find her in the Fade if she was nearby.  
“You could sleep in my bed again.”  
Winter had just taken a bite of bread, and immediately staring coughing. Solas handed her cup of water. She gulped it down then. When she had her coughing under control she wheezed, “I know I’m new to this friend thing, but I don’t think sharing a bed is something friends do.”  
He gave her a slight smile, “You can take the bedroll, I will mediate against the wall again. Or if you would be more comfortable I can stay in the room below the library.”  
“I can’t kick you out of your room… And you can’t sleep down there. The couple is going to do it on your desk”  
It was Solas’s turn to choke, “Excuse me? I thought you said it was the library?”  
“Their tryst spot is down there but the sound is going to echo all the way to the top of the tower.”  
Solas glared at the center of the room, “Maybe I should stay down there to discourage them.”  
“And ruin one of their last chances at some happiness before the Scout is sent out again? There’s always a risk when one goes out in the field they won’t come back. Let the kids have their fun.”  
“Easy for you to say, it’s not your work space they are defiling. And how old are you that you can refer to anyone as kids? Should you be condoning kids engaging in illicit activities?”  
Winter gave him a mild look, “They are somewhere around their 20s. And do you really want to pull the age thread grandpa?”  
Solas gave her a dour look, “Grandpa? Do you really think I’m that old?” Now he was curious as to see what age she thought he was. Worry briefly went through him, what if she found him too old? But he reminded himself he was too old. He was ancient, her life was a blink in comparison. Winter studied him and Solas felt a bit of apprehension, feeling the fine hairs on his neck stand up again. Her eyes seemed to see through him, knowing he was more than he pretended to be. The last time she had given him that look she had delivered some cryptic words. He hoped he wasn't in for a repeat.  
Winter tilted her head, while Solas appeared to be an elf in his early 40s, something about him whispered that wasn’t right. His eyes held too much knowledge, there was a certain air about him. A gravity that only comes with great age. It was just a feeling, but she always trusted her feelings. She still couldn’t get a solid read on him either. So she shrugged, “Your age is of no consequence.”  
“That’s not quite an answer”  
“Are you worried I think you are too old to be my friend? Does friendship have age restrictions?” A shadow passed over her face, did he think she was too immature to be friends with, was he looking for an out already? “Wait, how young do you think I am?”  
“If age is of no consequence to you, it is of no consequence to me.”  
“What a cop out. But if it makes you feel better since I can’t walk properly I feel really old too.”  
Solas gave her a derisive look, “It should come as no shock that I do not find that comforting in the slightest.”  
Winter crinkled her nose, “Yea, as soon as I said it I knew it sounded better in my head.” She looked down, they had finished eating and she was tired.  
“Well, I guess we should clear out. Are you staying to be a stick in the mud or are you coming back to your room with me?” The thought of sharing his quarters with him made her heart race. Last night she had, but she was so out of it she had no idea. Besides, she didn’t want to make the long walk to the stables, and she didn’t want him to ruin the rare opportunity for some stolen happiness from a couple of kids. At least that was tonight’s convenient lie. She had enjoyed his company today and found herself not wanting to part from him yet. Which was rare for her, to want to be around someone. It was so foreign to her she wanted to explore it.  
Solas perked up, straightening up the table as Winter stood and situated her crutches. She grabbed the book on mages and tucked it into the front of her tunic.

Together they set off back to his chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I wrote the fluffy part of this chapter while watching a terrible scary movie. It was not romantic at all.
> 
> Also, anyone who's ever been healthy and then suddenly not, knows what I mean about the stairs. When you didn't think about them before, suddenly they are everywhere and suuuuuuck.
> 
> I hate editing. Bc I end up reading and rereading until I think everything sucks and they take longer to produce bc tweak tweak tweak! and cut cut cut and change change change. It's driving me bananas. 
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	5. Nooooobody knows the trouble I've seen. / Nooooobody knows my sorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh inspiration ran dry combined with some doubt. 
> 
> Then I got a kick in the pants, and have been trying to get this out
> 
> Also I'm dedicating this chapter to the_queen_of_Thedas bc she was the kick in the pants lol (Albeit a very gentle one!). Thank you for always being so nice :)

Winter was quiet as they headed through the door. Her mind was racing, thoughts erratic. What if this was a bad idea? This was probably a bad idea. She should have come up with another solution. Surely there were empty rooms around here? But what if someone came in? Bedrooms meant one entrance and exit. Rooms meant enclosed space. They were in a keep, minimum windows. And they were too high for her to safely flee out a window. She couldn’t walk, let alone scramble down a wall. And with a bum leg she wasn’t in peak fighting condition. How would she dispose of a body? How would they dispose of her body? She didn’t want to fight someone alone when she was injured. She needed to practice throwing daggers, maybe she was getting rusty. Would the windows be big enough to dump a body out of them? Could she get a body out of one without help?

She took a deep breathe and held it. She needed to calm down. She counted her blades mentally, all were there. She let out her breath, counted again. She reminded herself all were there. And she trusted Solas. He would be her backup. She was confident Solas wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, her Sight always forewarned her about her personal safety. They were friends. Friends didn’t hurt the other. Friends looked out for each other, isn’t that what friendship was, looking out for each other? A different fear gripped her, sharing a room suddenly seemed very intimate. Did friends room together? She reminded herself that she survived last night. This night would be no different. 

She just didn’t fully trust herself being in a tiny space with him all night. What if she let something slip? Embarrassed herself? But it was too late to back out now. And she reminded herself if she didn’t ruin it while she was drunk, she could handle this sober. Maybe. As they passed by Vivienne’s space she was once again grateful the mage was gone. The older mage was sharp eyed and scathing. She made you feel like an insect she was studying to find how best to squish it. She was sure she would have had something nasty to say; even as she carefully observed everything. More than once Winter had seen her at balcony, looking down on the goings on of the keep with a calculating look to her face. She was exactly the type of person Winter avoided, a power hungry social climber who would use her or have her killed. Everything that didn’t fit into her neat little boxes should be exterminated or locked away. She didn’t keep her pro-Circle thoughts to herself, and Winter shuddered to think at what she would do if she ever found out about her unique abilities.

Her thoughts drifted to Eleni Zinovia, as they often did when she thought about her Sight and politics. Eleni had had the Sight too, only hers was strictly through her dreams. Lucky bitch. It hadn’t affected her waking life, until she had shared her visions. Her power had won her the heart and ear of Archon Valerius, but when she saw his death, he punished her, binding her spirit into stone. Putting her on display to be mocked. Winter had taken the cautionary tale to heart. Thinking on it now, it strengthened her resolve to never let another know of her gifts. She could do this. 

She relaxed a bit after they were out of sight of Vivienne’s haunt. Passing by it that morning hadn’t bothered her, but walking by with Solas…she had an uneasy feeling. Solas’ interest in her had already made too many other people take an interest in her for her liking. She didn’t want the fearsome mage to be among their number. And about this time she realized Solas was silent as well. She wondered if he was regretting offering his bed to her again. She tried for a joke to lighten the mood, “You’re awfully quiet. Did you just remembered I snored and are now regretting this?”

Solas cast her a slight smile, “Now that you mention it…”  
Winter gave him an offended look, “By the Void, I do not snore!”  
“First hand experience last night would beg to differ.”  
Winter gave him a scathing look, “You’re just as bad as those other liars.”  
“How would you know? You are asleep.”  
“Because a loud Scout is a dead Scout. If I were a loud snorer, I would not be here.”  
“But do you frequently get drunk when you are out on missions? Alcohol relaxes the muscles to the point they are more likely to vibrate with air flow.”  
“You know what, I change my answer from earlier. You are insufferable.” She looked up and down the hallway, “And if it’s so bad, which one of these other rooms is empty? I’ll just sleep in one of them.”  
Solas’s eyes were playful, “I believe most are occupied. You are welcome to play room roulette if you want. At this time of night I’m sure a few would love to be woken up by a beautiful woman demanding to share their bed.”  
“You’re probably right, it would be like winning a lottery for them,” She replied absently as she peered down the corridor, before turning back to him, “Wait, did you just say I’m beautiful?”  
“Are you denying it?”  
Winter glanced down at herself, “I’m told I’m too skinny, too tall, too off-putting, and the color of,” she wrinkled her nose, “a corpse who died from exsanguination.”  
Solas snorted, “Surely you don’t believe that?”  
She closed one eye in thought, checking each item off her fingers, “Well, I am kinda skinny…unusually tall for an elf…I work hard to be off-putting…and as you can see, I am really pale…so no…I don’t think they were lying on those accounts.” 

She shrugged, “Not that I care much what other people think, or even given it much thought myself. That’s just the last time I can remember someone commenting on my appearance. Of course, considering the source was a jealous human female, I didn’t put much stock in her words.”  
“Why was she jealous?”  
“Some human male was flirting with me, while she was trying to get his attention. She could have had him, he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in years and was very pushy. I regrettably had to be firm with him when I said no,” she gave him a wicked smile, so he knew exactly how she said no.  
Knowing she rebuked others in her past shouldn’t have pleased him as much it did, but he was gratified to hear it just the same, he focused back on the conversation at hand, “I thought you avoided people? Cities?”  
“I do, but occasionally I do have to venture to markets for supplies. I can’t help it if bar patrons sometimes spill out into the street near the stalls. And female elves are like catnip to these stupid humans. At any rate, she called me a scrawny, ugly knife-ear, and then told me why no one would ever find me truly attractive.”  
Solas shook his head, “The blindness of people in this age will never cease to amaze me.”  
Winter bit her lips and smiled, “This age? And people were much kinder back in your day? Whatever you say Grandpa.”  
Solas gave her an unamused look, but before he could respond she picked a door at random, “Anyway, this looks like a good one, I bet whoever is in here wouldn’t mind.” 

Solas smiled, raising his brows, “That is my room.”  
Winter looked at the door, then back at him, “Are you kidding me? A million rooms in this hall and I pick yours? What’s the opposite of winning the lottery? Because that’s me right now.”  
He gave her an arch look, “You don’t remember which one it was from last night?”  
“I was a little preoccupied with getting away, I didn’t bother memorizing the lay of the land. I definitely was not thinking I’d be back here tonight.” She looked at the door again, shaking her head, “I can’t believe I picked your room…” She opened the door and went inside, “You aren’t much for decorations.”  
“This room is just a means to an end, I do not need it to be decorated.”  
“How very utilitarian of you. And dull. The point of a room is to make it welcoming, like a little safe haven for you, with things that make you happy in it”  
“Do you decorate Cimmi’s stall?”  
Winter snorted, “I keep my dead horse in there, it doesn’t get more welcoming or happy than that.”  
Solas gave her a slight smile, “I think we will have to agree to disagree on what is considered hospitable.”  
She turned to look at him, “We’ll have to. You think it’s weird that I feel welcome with an undead beast, I find your sparse little room too clinical. Personally I think you are the odder of the two of us.”

The sudden silence in the room felt oppressive and Winter felt gawky.  
Winter awkwardly bumped her fists against her thighs, as she hunched over on her crutches. “Soooooo…are you really giving me your bed? Can you even get rest leaning up against the wall like that? Are you sure this isn’t awkward for you? It’s not too late for me to make the trek down to the stables. I just can’t guarantee I’ll be back up here at a reasonable ho-.” She took a deep breathe, and saw a vision, cutting her off mid-ramble. Someone was waiting for her at the foot of the steps. Two someones. Once she was down they would jump, dragging her off toward who knows where. It was too dark, even in her mind, to see who they were, but Bull’s bulk was hard to mistake. She guessed the smaller one was Dorian. Those bastards were going to try to force her to socialize. She blinked and came back to the present. Her face twisted and she glared toward the stairs. Promising herself again that once she was healed she would make their lives miserable.  
“Nevermind, I’m here for the night.”  
Solas was just standing there, looking at her with his brows raised. When she finally stopped, he stepped in the room, lit the weirdest torch she had ever seen on his table, shut the door, then immediately went to the window and opened it.  
Winter flashed him a grateful smile, before taking off her hat and setting it on the table next to the torch. Her nerves were still buzzing and she couldn’t seem to stem the steady stream of words. Why was she overthinking this? She focused on the green torch, using it as a distraction.  
“What’s with this green flame anyway? Do you always sleep with a night light?”  
She put her hand near it, it didn’t burn.  
Finally Solas spoke, “That is veilfire. Only mages can summon it, but anyone can wield it’s light. From my travels in the Fade, it’s familiar. I don’t always keep it going, but last night I didn’t want you to wake up in a strange place in the dark.”  
Winter was touched, that was a thoughtful sentiment. Her lips quirked as she looked at the flames, her hands idly making shadow puppets on the wall behind it. Yet another lonely activity she had perfected over long nights in the wild, whenever she found refuge in a cave. At least it was good hand exercises, making her fingers even more nimble. 

Solas was watching Winter carefully. Her elegant hands were making amusing animal figures against the wall. The light showcased the raised scars along her knuckles and hands, evidence that she was a brawler. The green of the veilfire had tinted her, her coloring so pale it accepted it readily. It darkened her eyes to black.  
“You’re very good at that, how did you learn?”  
“Shadow puppets? Our Story Teller used them. It always fascinated me as a child. I would practice on my own. Sometimes she would help, coaching me. It wasn’t until I left that I truly mastered it though. Lots of time at night when you set your own schedule and have no actual obligations” She gave him a crooked smile, “When Zelda was a kitten she used to chase the figures. Now she fancies herself too grown up and clever to fall for it. But her eyes, they still watch.”  
“This is the second time you’ve mentioned this Story Teller, she must have been important to you.”  
Winter shrugged, “She tolerated me. More than I can say for anyone else. She thought my otherness,” she made a vague gesture, struggling to put it into words, “- strangeness if you will - gave me a flair for storytelling. I’m told I was a fairly imaginative child, prone to wild stories,” her lips twisted sardonically, eyes hardening, he could see the dark thought flash behind her eyes but couldn’t begin to know about what, “Also my pale coloring. As you can see, I easily blend in. With the different powders to change the color of the fires, it would add to my storytelling. But I was too good a hunter, and Story Teller was too important a position. No one wanted me that high up in the hierarchy. ”  
He stepped closer, “What strangeness?”  
She briefly gave him an amused look, before turning her attention back on her shadow saga, “You don’t find me strange?”  
Solas shook his head, “Not in the slightest, I’ve mentioned I just find you intriguing.”  
“Well that’s an unexpected change of pace. Normally I’m intriguing solely because someone finds me strange.”  
“And what is it about you that makes you so?”  
Winter gave a tight lipped smile and shook her head, “If you don’t see it, I’m not about to point it out. Then that’s all you’ll see and I’m not ready to lose my first friend when I just got him.”

He gave her a wry look, “Friends are supposed to accept each other’s quirks. _And_ trust each other.”  
“You’re smart, bored, and I’m betting you like puzzles, why would I want to deny you that pleasure of figuring it out on your own?” She gave him a maddening smile, “Assuming you _can_ figure anything out.” Winter was playing with fire, goading him like that. But she didn’t seem to be able to stop herself. 

Abruptly she shifted her gaze up at him, looking strange and otherworldly in the veilfire’s light, like a vision from a dream, “Would you like me to tell you one?”  
Solas chewed his lip, “One what?”  
She inclined her head toward the wall, where her hands still silently acted out a tale, “A story. It’s very soothing, telling stories. And since you aren’t Dalish, perhaps you haven’t heard it before.”  
Solas wasn’t sure what to say, he was curious as to what stories the Dalish told, but it was a gamble. What if she tried to tell him one of Fen’Harel? He didn’t think he could sit through another. Although he wondered what tale she would want to tell him. 

His curiosity won out, “So long as it’s not a cautionary tale, one with a moral like ‘this is the way it’s always been done, challenging the status quo leads to death.’” A thought occurred to him, “And I’d like to hear one of the stories that you made up.”  
Winter gave him an incredulous look, “What?”  
“You said that you used to have a vivid imagination and a talent for story weaving, so I’d like to hear a tale of your own.”  
She appraised him, “Well that makes this a little bit trickier….” She thought over everything, she knew she didn’t really make up her stories, she had been telling the future or past as she saw it. With Eleni still fresh in her mind she decided to modify her narrative a bit. She had learned early that if she changed the people to animals that made people less nervous, pretending it was the ramblings of a child, and not names of far off people and places a child should have no knowledge of.  
Winter gestured to him to get comfortable, and he settled in against his customary wall, nodding to show he was ready for her to begin. She tossed her helmet next to the bedroll and she surprised him by taking the table and turning it on it’s side across from him, before settling next to him, sitting in a way that the torch was tucked in her legs, but her hands were free.  
He gave her a questioning look. She gave a playful half smile, “Since there’s just the two of us, I don’t need to do large ones on the wall. I can do more defined, smaller ones on this table instead. Solas nodded his understanding, hoping he could concentrate. She wasn’t even really touching him, but was close enough that her knee gently brushed his when she wiggled. She didn’t seem to notice as she began.

 

“There was once a rabbit, strong of spirit. Her name was Meda.”  
—Her hands formed a rabbit on the wall beyond the torch, she wiggled her fingers and it’s ears appeared to twitch, it’s paws rubbing together. He smiled, she was very talented.-  
“She was a curious sort, always wandering about. She learned the secrets of the forest from her observations, became adept at sensing danger. Her ears were long, her feet quick, and her mind clever. She used her skills to safeguard her kin.”  
—She made the rabbit dart around, and he chuckled, surprising himself at how he was getting sucked into a children’s tale. But her voice was very lulling, her movements mesmerizing.—  
“She grew in popularity, even catching the eye of the younger Rabbit Prince. With her, he rose to power and became the heir, and eventually the King. She became his consort.”  
—The rabbit appeared regal and proud, and Solas glanced at Winter, she was a ghostly green, eyes intent on the wall—  
“Sometimes her curiosity got her into more trouble than she bargained for, but she was always able to talk herself out of it. However, one day, she heard the foxes were planning an attack.”  
—Her hands formed a fox head, somehow making it seem menacing. He marveled at how dexterous her fingers were—  
“Foxes were the sworn enemies of the rabbits. There had been a truce for many years, but their new King was greedy. He wanted their territory for his own. So he had a plan. Attack on the Solstice, and kill the Rabbit King. But he was also cunning. He knew Meda would find out. So he made his plan known, but kept it a secret when the attack would occur. The rabbits armed for attack on the day of the Solstice instead of celebrating, but none ever came. Since they made no offerings to the Gods, their crops were sparse that summer. The King was furious”  
—She made a rabbit on guard, looking about for signs of trouble. When none came she made the ears droop and the legs twitch.—  
“The King was furious. Not only had she made him look like a fool, but she had ruined one of the high holidays. She stuck by her information, and said maybe with the next Solstice. So when it came, once again they were on guard. And once again, no attack came. The King’s pride couldn’t take being made a fool of twice. He had his chief mage punish her. He petrified Meda, and put her at the entrance to his castle, to be mocked for all time.”  
—She made the rabbit freeze, somehow appearing sad in it’s stillness—  
“The news spread far and wide. And when it reached the Foxes, they rejoiced. And with the next Solstice, when the Rabbit Kingdom was in full celebration, they attacked”  
—She made a snarling fox, attacking something out of line of sight—  
“The Rabbit King was killed, as were many of his subjects. While Meda had to watch it all, silent and unmoving as stone, unable to help. After the attack, she was taken as a trophy. For she was instrumental in the King’s downfall. Many years went by, before she became lost to the ages. And now no one remembers the sad Rabbit, who sacrificed her life in vain”

 

Winter trailed off, the story over. Solas blinked, then looked at her, “That wasn’t a very happy story for a child to make up.”  
Winter shrugged, “I told you I was an unusual child. And it’s no more or less upsetting than any other story. Haven’t you noticed how none ever seem to end up with happy endings?”  
“True, and I thought you weren’t going to tell me one where the moral was don’t be different?”  
“I was 8! There was no moral, unless it’s that ‘people are dumb and will ignore the truth if it’s inconvenient and then let their pride hurt those around them for imagined insults.’”  
Solas chuckled, “That’s a long moral”  
“So you can see why I wasn’t more popular.”  
“I still enjoyed it.”  
She gave him a shy smile, “Thank you. Would you like me to teach you one?” She nodded toward the table, “A puppet.”  
He nodded and held out his hands, showing he was ready. Winter giggled, finding his eagerness bewitching.  
“Okay, what animal would you like to learn?”  
“Something easy, I’m not sure my fingers are as nimble as yours.”  
“Don’t you waggle them around a lot for spells? Or is that just flailing, with little finesse?” She glanced at him, “Oh don’t give me that look, I’m not that far in the book yet” She bumped him playfully with her shoulder.

Solas was charmed by how casual she was being with him. The Advisors and the Inquisitors inner circle weren’t quite sure what to make of him, an Elvhen Apostate Mage, who wasn’t Dalish like the Inquisitor. Except for Varric, the dwarf treated him as he treated any other. But the other companions…it was safe to say they weren’t going to be chums anytime soon. Winter had said she didn’t want to turn into an insufferable-know-it-all like he was, which wasn’t far from how the others felt about him. He wasn’t easy around people, his stiff demeanor keeping them mostly at a distance, his sarcastic dry humor earning him an unfriendly reputation. Not that Solas minded much, it was better that he didn’t form too many attachments. But Winter was different. Despite her claims to hate everyone, she was friendly to those nice to her first. She appreciated his humor. And she was treating him like he was anyone else, regardless of her wariness of mages. He smiled as he realized something; she was treating him like one of her misfits that she collected.

“Alright, I’ll teach you….” her eyes rested briefly on his necklace before meeting his eyes again, her own mischievous, “the wolf.”  
She positioned her hands and asked him to mimic it. He tried in a poor semblance. Winter nibbled her lip, “No like this.”  
She carefully showed him how to lock his hands together, using his fingers to make teeth and his thumb to make the ear. He tried again, closer this time. Winter scooted closer and reached out, “here, try this” and she began adjusting his hands. She tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach at touching him. His hands weren’t smooth like she was expecting, but rough and calloused. She may have to reevaluate her opinion of what mages did. Wielding a staff had made it’s mark, he had wonderful calluses. 

Solas’s heart beat faster at her closeness. Her side was pressed up against his, her hands firmly trying to position his own.  
“Stop fighting me! Just do this! Here!” She was vainly trying to wrench his fingers around, but he had locked them. He couldn’t resist teasing her back, purposely making his hands clumsier. She furrowed her brow, “You are so bad at this!” She glanced at him when she heard him chuckle. She narrowed her eyes, “You cad! You could have just said you didn’t want to learn!”  
Solas laughed lowly, “No, I do!”  
She gave him a dirty look, shoving his hands away from hers, “Whatever, now I’ll just have to make up a story about a jerk wolf and how he gets beaten up by a rabbit. Then I’ll have to rough you up to make it true. You’ll never live it down.”  
“And who will you tell it to? And you still maintain you could take me in a fight?”  
She gave him another dirty look, “Anyone who will listen. I’m told I have a following in the tavern, it shouldn’t be hard. And once I’m healed, I know I can.”  
He bumped her back with his shoulder, “Then you’ll have to go back there…all those people…staring at you. And I don’t think you should be so dismissive of me as an opponent.”  
She scowled in his face, “No way, that’s the purpose of the shadow puppets, they distract the attention. I might as well be a bodiless voice talking to them from beyond the Veil. And if you ever manage to get me better, we can test all these theories. Someday.”  
He met her gaze, his own eyes dancing. “I think I would like that.”  
Winter cocked her head to the side, leaning closer to him, “You know what, I think I would too. I bet you’ll be cute when I lay you flat on your back, with a surprised look on your face.”  
He raised his brows, and grinned slightly when her cheeks flushed.  
“Oh you are just the worst.”  
“You may need to think more before you speak. Maybe don’t blurt out the first thought that comes to your mind.”  
“Ah but then where would you get your amusement? You’d have to look for genuinely funny things instead of laughing at my embarrassment” She bit her bottom lip, her eyes crinkling with mirth.  
His eyes dipped to her lips, distracted, “I could think of something else to amuse myself with,” his eyes flicked back up to hers, “Do you realize you called me cute?”  
Winter swallowed, realizing they were close together again, her skin feeling charged, the air electric. This intensity that seemed to constantly flair between them was going to be the death of her. Especially when he looked at her lips like that, like he wanted to devour her. They were flirting again.  
Winter glanced at his mouth quickly, before meeting his eyes with a raised brow, her voice was a hoarse, “I figured it was fair, you called me beautiful. I think friends are allowed to tell the other one they are good-looking, right? Is that a thing?”  
“You already told me you thought I was cute though, remember? Or at least my freckles are. Now there’s an unbalance again”  
Winter flushed, her embarrassment breaking the spell, and she pulled away from him, covering her face with her hands, “Ugh you could pretend that never happened. I’m so mortified.”  
Solas was disappointed she pulled back, and tried to tell himself it was for the best, “You shouldn’t be, I already told you I didn’t mind.”  
“But I hate that there was a time, however brief, I wasn’t aware of what I was doing. The thought of being…the things I said…losing control like that?” She shuddered, “A nightmare come true.”  
He tentatively grabbed one of her hands and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, “Perhaps I will stop teasing you, if it upsets you.”  
She gently squeezed his hand back before pulling it away, still not used to such prolonged casual touching, “Perhaps you do that, else-wise I’ll finally answer the age-old question on whether or not you can die from embarrassment. Spoiler alert: my money is on yes.”  
“An unsettling thought. I think you’ll manage to pull through.”

She forced herself to look around the space, hoping breaking eye contact would break the tension. She took in the small room again, her earlier fear resurfacing.  
“Are you sure we’re safe in here? What if someone attacks?” She glanced around the enclosed space, and he could practically hear her thoughts as she assessed the room’s defenses, “There’s no escape routes. We’ll be like fish in a barrel.”  
Solas let her change the subject, knowing by now that if he pushed it she would close off, and it would take longer for her to relax enough to open up again. And he did not want to scare her off, or make her staying here awkward. “Fish in a barrel?”  
She gave him a duh face, “Yea, easy to catch.”

Solas gave her an amused look, but she scowled and turned her attention back to surveillance. “It’s a common phrase.”  
He carefully watched her. She was so used to being along he doubted she realized how easy she was to read at times. Had fallen out of practice of constantly guarding her expressions. “No one would dare attack. The fortress is a safe place. Even if it were not, we are both accomplished fighters, I think we would be okay.”  
Her mouth twitched to the side, clearly not believing him.  
“You’ve never seen me fight, for all you know I’m just very lucky and talk a big game.”  
Solas shook his head, “After everything you’ve told me, even so far as claiming to be able to best me, I doubt luck has very much to do with your skill. And you have the hands of a brawler and are very quick. But if it will make you feel better I can put up a ward.”  
She glanced at him again, “Won’t that trap me in here with you?”  
His voice was lightly teasing, “Would that be such a bad thing?”  
Winter turned from the room, looking him up and down folded her arms, “That depends on whether or not you are going go keep trying to get information out of me.”

“I can’t help myself, I think you’re interesting. And I believe it’s called a ‘conversation’ not an ‘interrogation’ for a reason.”  
Winter rolled her eyes, “I keep telling you: I promise I’m not really that interesting at all. I think you’ve been cooped up here for too long, you are truly desperate for something to distract you. I’m sure all that painting is getting dull and tedious.”  
He kept his face blank, not wanting to admit that staying behind in the fortress was making him stir-crazy. But this was where he needed to be, until this Corypheus business was sorted out.

Her gaze fell on the bed. “So you never answered me. Are you really sure you want to give up your bedroll? I’m feeling what I assume is guilt. It’s something I’m not accustomed to, and I have to say, I don’t much care for it.” She side eyed him, “So..am I inconveniencing you greatly?”  
Solas smiled at her, “No I’m not inconvenienced. I rarely use the bedroll anyway. It will be no trouble at all for me to mediate against the wall as I did last night.”  
Some of the tension left Winter, “Well in that case” She attempted to stand, and twisted her lips at how to go about it after her first attempt got her nowhere. Solas watched her with interest. After a few more failed attempts she finally glared at him, “Are you going to help me?”  
He gave her an innocent look, “I was under the assumption I show off the use of my legs too easily, I didn’t want to offend you again.”  
Winter barked out a laugh, “Ok Sass Master. I deserved that. I’m sorry, now will you please help me get up?”  
Solas rose to his feet, and Winter admired the smooth way he moved, he was very casually graceful. When he turned and held out his hand she smiled and took it. He pulled her up as she leveraged her leg, causing her to rise up faster than intended, and bumping into him. She swayed a bit from the sudden head rush. “Thanks.”  
Winter picked up the torch and hopped over next to the bedroll. She pulled out the book from her tunic and set it down next to the bed. She glanced at Solas, eyes dancing, “To help me sleep. It’s so dry I’m sure it’ll put me out in no time, reading about magic is like getting hit with a knock-out dart.”  
He pushed his lips into a line, refusing to rise to her bait, it would only encourage her.  
“Hey can you put the table back upright? I have some stuff I’d like to put on it”  
Solas nodded as he righted the table, curious as to what she was going to put on it.

He didn’t have to wait long. One by one she began to take her daggers off her person and lay out on the surface. He felt his brows going higher and higher the more she laid out. He had no idea she was so heavily armed, most were hidden very cleverly in her gear. She took off her arm guards and laid them on the table as well.  
She realized he was watching her.  
“What?”  
He glanced at the daggers then back up at her, “Do you really need all those knives?”  
Winter looked at the table as well. So far she had both her boot knives, her arm guard daggers, her belt knife, her second boot knives, her little throwing daggers she kept at her belt, the longer dagger she kept hidden in her back sheath. She hadn’t planned on removing the smaller one she wore around her neck tucked into her breast band.  
“This isn’t that many, and isn’t even all of them! I left my short sword, my off-hand, and my bow and arrows in the stall with Cimmi.”  
“Why do you carry so many weapons?”  
Winter gave him a look, “You know why. Not all of us can manipulate the world around us into a weapon. I have to rely on the reality I have, I can’t reshape it.”  
“So you have been retaining something from that book of magic.”  
Winter gave him a sour look, “Of course, and I don’t appreciate the implication that I have a low intelligence that it would be beyond me. I don’t suppose you are going to express surprise next that I can even read?”  
“That is not what I meant, I’m sorry to have implied otherwise. I was just pleased that you were making progress.”  
Winter grumbled, “I don’t even know why you would say something like that when you just saw how many knives I have”  
Solas gave her a serious look, “A mistake I will try to not make again.”  
She narrowed her eyes at him, sensing he was pulling her tail, but he appeared sincere. 

Winter removed her outer white tunic, to add to her growing inventory and when she started unbuckling her chainmail and reached down to pull it off she paused, he was watching her with a funny look on his face.

“Am I making you uncomfortable? I can sleep in this if I am, I just thought it would be okay. Don’t worry, I have stuff on under here after all. It’s not like I’m completely undressing”  
Solas shook his head, “No please, get comfortable. I was just not expecting it.”  
She gave him an impish smile, “You know, you can take off your top too if you want.”  
His eyes widened a fraction, and Winter burst out laughing, “You should see your face! But really, this is your room. If I’m being inappropriate, it’s not too late for me to find someplace else to crash. Or put my armor back on”  
“Please stay, I was just surprised to see you willingly removing your armor after expressing you feared for your safety.”  
“I thought you said you would put up a ward? You seemed certain we would be safe, I’m going to trust your judgement. Since we are friends and all. And unless you are the one planning on murdering me, I think I can make it one night without wearing it.”  
Solas closed his eyes, his first couple nights here he had set wards himself, so the lines of power were already in place, it was simple enough to reactivate them.

He opened his eyes to Winter pulling her chainmail top over her head. Her under tunic had gotten caught in it a bit, and it pulled up enough he got a glimpse of the smooth planes of her stomach. He looked away again, wondering why he was being tortured in this way, and what it was about her that he found so irresistible. He slid down against the wall and got in cobbler’s pose. He peeked at her again when he heard her move, she had sat down on the bedroll, and started to roll her thigh high leg wraps down her long legs; he quickly shut his eyes again. This was a terrible idea. She had to be doing this to him on purpose. He heard her slight moan at removing it and attempted to focus on clearing his mind, and not on how tantalizing he found her innocent undressing. 

Winter gave a sigh of relief. Her armor was comfortable, but sleeping in it was not, at least not if she didn’t have to. She had on light breeches and a very light top, in addition to her smalls on under it, so she didn’t think it’d be inappropriate to get out of her armor. Not that she really cared about propriety. But maybe Solas did? She shot a quick glance at him, but he was just sitting serenely against the wall, ignoring her. The sullen, hormonal side of her mind was a little stung that she didn’t have any effect on him. Which was stupid and juvenile of her. Sure he thought she was beautiful, but he didn’t seem consistently interested. Maybe he wasn’t, and it was all in her head. She wasn’t the best at picking up social cues. And everything she had ever Seen of relationships was so conflicting, it wasn’t much help. She was probably imagining he had wanted to kiss her earlier, and he realized she was thinking it and he was too polite to say anything, not wanting to crush her feelings. Maybe he flirted with everyone. She flushed, embarrassed by her actions if that was the case. She tried to shrug it off and stop thinking about it, but being in such close quarters wasn’t making it easy. She sighed and started removing her other leg wrap, the one on her injured leg. It was even more snug than normal due to the slight swelling, and when she got to her lower leg she hissed in pain once it was off. The tight bindings had been helpful, but the relief of taking it off _hurt_.

Solas was doing his best to ignore her, but when Winter hissed in pain his eyes flew open. She was completely out of her armor now, in just some plain, short light brown breeches and a loose white top without sleeves. She was gently holding her injured leg, massaging it gingerly, her face twisted in pain. “Would you like me to take a look at that?”  
Her head shot up, she had already written him off as into mediation, hadn’t realized he was paying attention to her. She bit her lip, she did want him to take a look but didn’t want to impose on him anymore than she already had. Not over a little swelling. While she had deliberated he had moved closer, already moving her hands out of the way.  
“You don’t have to keep doing this you know, helping me. I’m sorry I’m such an inconvenience. And that I need constant maintenance.”  
Solas flicked his eyes upward before pressing his cool hands against her ankle, “You don’t have to keep thanking me. You aren’t an inconvenience.”  
She raised her brows, “I stole your bed, am pulling you away from your Inquisition duties, opening you to a ton of ridicule, and you keep wasting your magic on a wound that seemingly won’t heal.”  
“Well you are the one who said I must be very bored, maybe you were more right than you know, and you are the perfect distraction. At first anyway, now we are friends and I think friends help each other.”  
“Hmm then I suppose I’ll have to think of a way to help you…other than alleviate your boredom.”  
Winter leaned forward, before she hadn’t been too keen on watching, but now she was curious as to what his magic using actually looked like.  
Solas was barely listening, still putting soothing magic into the black spot in her joint. He frowned, it wasn’t getting any worse, but it also wasn’t getting any better. It was almost like it was _waiting_ for something, but he didn’t know what. Probing it didn’t reveal any more information, but he was able to help the swelling go down. Winter sighed in content. Solas ran his hands up her calf, double checking that the black spot hadn’t spread. Once satisfied he realized what he was doing. She had runner’s legs, thin and muscular. They felt even better without her armor covering them.

Winter bit her lip to hold in the noises trying to escape, his gentle ministrations easing the constant ache that plagued her leg. She didn’t want to distract him from what he was doing, or make it weird for him if she moaned again, his hands on her leg through her light trousers felt wonderful. But her curiosity got the better of her and she needed to know, “Is there any change?”  
Solas glanced up into her anxious face, it was closer than he realized. The Veilfire flickered, causing the highlights to shift, it sharpened the planes of her face, and once again she looked like she wasn’t mortal. It sobered his thoughts. Suddenly he felt wistful, her life was so fleeting. She was so very mortal, this curse was evidence of that. He shouldn’t be getting this invested in her, it could only end poorly. Even if he somehow decided to try and keep her, eventually she would leave him, through her own accord or her death. He needed to start distancing himself, but the just the thought of it was abhorrent to him. He reminded himself that they were just friends anyway and focused back on the problem at hand.

Winter watched as something shifted behind his eyes, and he seemed conflicted. It was making her even more anxious, “Well? What’s going on? Is it worse? Better? Spread?”  
Solas set back on his heels and pursed his lips.  
“Your silence is kind of freaking me out here”  
Solas chewed the inside of his cheek and looked up at her, “It’s not spread, it’s not worse, but it’s not better either. And it seems to be waiting for something.”

Winter blinked, “Waiting for something?” She looked at her leg then back up to him, “Waiting for what? Like an invite to spread? Someone to evict it? You’re going to have to help me out here, I’m still in the Primal section of the mage book.”  
Solas sighed, “I am not sure. I would go back to the library but I don’t want to interrupt the midnight tryst.”  
Winter grinned slightly in relief, if it didn’t worry him enough to sprint back to the library or trying to pump her leg full of magic, she wasn’t immediately dying, “Then it can’t be that bad. I can handle the same. And if it’s waiting for something, well it’s been a few weeks so it’ll just have to keep waiting.”

Solas looked at her disapprovingly, “It is still serious, you shouldn’t treat it lightly. Maybe it’s waiting for someone to trigger it, and for it to spread, or even reverse the healing process instead of just stopping it. We don’t have enough information at this point to say. You should grant more respect than unconcerned levity to the situation.”

Winter stiffened, his tone rankling, his words causing a spike a fear to go through her. And as always when she got scared, she got angry, the two feelings intertwined in her emotional-bag-of-tricks, “I know it’s serious, it’s my leg! I’ve been dealing with this for weeks. I’m the one who can’t walk, I’m the one who’s screwed if it doesn’t ever get better, and I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with the consequences if it gets worse and we have to chop off my leg, or Void forbid, it kills me! So excuse me for handling it to the best of my ability. I’m not wired to panic, so I’m just not going to. Panicking won’t do anything but cause me to freak out, cloud my judgement, and wouldn’t provide any solutions. But **thank you** for reminding me about how screwed I am. How dangerous my situation is. It’s not like every time I move I am constantly reminded my body is broken. It’s not like every waking hour is consumed with thoughts of who could have cursed me, to what end, and what’s going to happen next. Whether or not I’m too dangerous to keep around. If I’ll ever get better. Oh no, Fade forbid I make jokes.” She cut herself off before she let something slip about how she can’t See what’s going to happen and it was scaring her witless. The future shouldn’t be this blank. _Her_ future shouldn’t be this blank, not to her. Something was _wrong_ and she was only just beginning to realize how insidious it was. 

But for now she welcomed anger, anger she could deal with. Anger she understood. She just needed to be sure she didn’t attack him. And was mildly surprised to find that a small part of her didn’t want to hurt him. She decided to heed that small voice. But that didn’t mean she had to be nice about it. She yanked out of his grasp, slipped under the blanket, and opened the book with a snap, her movements violent and sharp. 

Solas scrubbed a hand over his face. She was so flippant all the time, it never occurred to him that she did take this seriously, but was just coping in her own way. But this was her life, as much as she seemed to be able to separate herself from the issue, so well he could actually talk to her about the curse while forgetting it was actually _in_ her leg, it was still her body, and she was scared and worried. She feared magic, made no secret about it, but she was handling this whole situation with grace, not letting it control her. She was even trying to learn about magic, trying to conquer her phobia. He couldn’t imagine how difficult this all must be for her. 

And he scolded her like a child, accused her of not taking this seriously, and now she was ignoring him. With her volatile nature, he should be glad she didn’t slug him, as she was fond of threatening. After his careless remarks he deserved it.  
He sighed, this didn’t come easy to him, the words always tasting like dust in his mouth.  
“Winter, I apologize.”  
If possible, she gave the page she was on an even angrier glare, her eyebrows furrowed, but otherwise didn’t give any indication that she heard him, turning a page so hard he winced when a small corner of it ripped.  
“I should not have presumed to tell you how to handle this or to know what you are going through. I am sorry.”  
She turned another page, this one a touch less violently. At least nothing ripped.  
“I actually think you are handling the whole situation very well. Considering your distrust of mages and the arcane arts. I appreciate all your effort in all this. You are in reality an ideal patient.”  
She finally responded, her tone was blistering, “No you shouldn’t have told me how to handle it. And you are lucky I am mostly unarmed. And that you happen to be instrumental in the research process. And that we are friends now.” She never looked up from her book, but her brows relaxed a fraction. Solas took it as a good sign.

Solas retreated back, he had apologized, now he would give her space to cool off. He decided to try seeking out a Spirit of Wisdom, maybe they would provide some insight into this curse of hers. Or to how to deal with sharing a room with an angry, deadly woman who made no secret that she was vindictive. With that thought he wondered if he should even risk putting himself in such a vulnerable state. He chanced another glance at Winter, but she was still ignoring him. He decided he was probably safe. If she did plan on doing something to him he didn’t think she would have acknowledged his apology. He hoped anyway. 

Winter glared at the words on the page. She was still angry, even after he apologized, but it had helped to mollify her some. Which she should be gracious and accept, she told herself. She didn’t think he was the sort to readily admit when he made a mistake. But the anger was coiled hot in her belly, fear chasing it, and she was afraid if she opened her mouth it would spew out and make the situation worse. She just needed some time to cool off. It had been a long time since someone had scolded her, since someone had cared enough. Or presumed to tell her how she should act or feel. She was still very conflicted with it all. She glanced at him, he was back against his wall and his eyes were closed. Winter sighed, she would accept his apology in the morning. And consider working on her temper and how she handled criticism. Maybe apologize herself for trying to stab him with her mind. She wasn't quite ready to do it yet, and he seemed to be already be in the Fade. She resolved herself to speak with him in the morning, and turned back to her book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!
> 
> BTW dialogue is hard as shit and exhausting. I think next chapter I'm just going to do in freaking hand gestures. And all of them are going to be just Winter flipping people off with various degrees of annoyance on her face. I think she can do it. I have faith in her.
> 
> People did shadow puppets back in the day right? I stumbled upon that idea, I'm pretty proud of what an excellent addition to Dalish storytelling it would be. And also, it would be a good finger workout for a rogue. 
> 
> As always comments and kudos make my life


	6. In short, our pal / Is doomed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a slow fic, if you are looking for fast paced action it's going to be awhile. It's chapter 6 and I'm not even on day 3 of them knowing each other. Clearly, I am a "the journey IS the destination" kind of person. 
> 
> Things will eventually start happening, but I'm enjoying writing these two nerds falling in love and getting to know each other. Before they find out each other's dark secrets and start feuding or whatever I make them do.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I got a job, so while on the plus side, yay job!   
> Downside, less updates (not that I was doing so hot with them before...) but other plus side!   
> I do my best thinking while driving so hopefully I'll get more ideas which lead to more updates. And also my downtown in my job is my own so I can write while I'm at work so long as my actual work is done.

Winter turned her attention back to the book, finally able to finish up Primal magics, and was well into Spirit. After describing the particular school of magic, the book outlined the most notable spells in each group. It was sobering stuff. She glanced at Solas again. If he thought this book would do _anything_ to alleviate her unease with magic, he had to be on some kind of herb or something. This was frightening. She guessed Spirit was where his talents were, he was often called the Fade Mage behind his back. 

She supposed it was kind of interesting, in a horrifying-destroy-the-world type of way. He was adept at barriers and force magic, which seemed to be the hallmark of the Spirit school. Among other things. She shuddered, it’s spells were able to do terrible things to people. She hadn’t even touched on the Dreamer aspect. He mentioned able to shape dreams and kill in the Fade…her mind skirted away from that dark thread. It was a terrifying amount of power for any one person to wield. 

She supposed if she thought rationally about it it was no different than what she would be able to accomplish. She supposed she could steer the future more if she tried, but it was very much like work. The little bit she did was exhausting, and very dangerous. Anything she tried on a larger scale would be too much like suicide for her liking. If not of her actual life, then her time. And would increase the risk that someone found out. And she didn’t want power or influence, she just wanted to live out her days quietly and be content, helping where she could. She had no desire to actively manipulate the future on a macro level. She knew the day would come when she would have to get involved in a big way, but she was fighting that day as long as she could.

But as far as she knew there was only one of her, and there were thousands of mages. She had often searched for others like her, hoping to See another, even if they had lived in a different time, but her searches never yielded results. The closest thing out there, besides Eleni, were the ‘Seers’ of Rivain. She didn’t bother stoping the sneer from crossing her face at remembering them. Local hedge witches that communed with Spirits from the Fade, some even allowing themselves to become possessed, in a misguided attempt to benefit themselves. Winter’s mouth twisted into a hard line, Spirits weren’t infallible and were often unpredictable. Not to mention she could never quite figure out why someone would choose this life if they had another option. The future was a heavy burden. Their false Sight was limited to what the Spirits could remember, and their insight into the future was so limited, not to mention the future was in a constant state of motion, they were often as wrong as much as they were right. Tracking all the changes and keeping an eye on something usually resulted in headaches, and if she truly attempted it, she feared she would go mad. No, she claimed no kinship with those Rivain frauds. It was something they could turn off, and that rankled. She was saddled with this for life. Thankfully their existence wasn’t widely known. The distinct lack of other Seers, while lonely, was an advantage. People just assumed she was observant and odd, not that she could See the future.

Her mind turned back to her previous train, there was just so much more potential for mages to be able to accomplish a lot more damage if they got a homicidal urge than a regular person with a sword. And that was without factoring in the threat of demons. And the mages with special abilities like Solas. She turned wide eyes to him, he could kill someone from miles away with just his mind, or render them Tranquil by killing their ‘conscious’ in the Fade. Could non-mages be made Tranquil? She shivered, her emotions may be explosive, confusing, and unpredictable at times, but they were _hers_. The thought of being a shell was chilling. Sure it might take away her visions - she had no idea where they came from or what caused them - but the cost was too high. And what if it didn’t take them? What if she just became an emotionless, empty vessel that churned out predictions but was too apathetic to do anything? Was content to be a tool, used on a whim? It made her stomach roll. She would rather die than be a pawn. 

She gritted her teeth and turned back to the book, uncomfortable with the circles her mind was turning.

She read for how long she wasn’t even sure. And as…illuminating….as the book was, she was tired. When she could scarcely keep her eyes open she would mark her place and set it aside. But every time she tried to lie back to go to sleep, her thoughts raced, circling impossible things and trying to hammer down why she was so fearful of mages. Going over all the different things that they could do, all the new spells she had learned. But also going over what she had Seen of the Circles. How mages were treated, blindly with hate for something beyond their control. They were judged as guilty before _they_ could even conceive of what they were capable of. And the Chantry control…this whole Maker business was too neat a package used to beat people down, oppress them. Forcing Mages to serve a deity against their will, hoping it will make them decent folk set her teeth on edge. Anyone could be a murderer, magic didn’t make a person bad by the nature of it. Any tool in the wrong hands could be deadly. The thought of what she could do if she ever decided to be evil was just as sobering. She could easily destroy lives and nations.  
Unbidden an image of a gat-lock explosion came to her mind. She shuddered. Non-mages were able to come up with some horrifying ways to kill mass amounts of people as well. 

When she got tired of that, she kept worrying about what Solas said, how the curse seemed to be waiting for something. What was it waiting on? What if she triggered it? She was constantly rubbing her ankle, or twitching it to ensure that it was still there. Still the same. It didn’t feel any different. So long as she didn’t move the bones, it didn’t hurt. But every slight movement sent a shock of pain up her leg, which she had mostly gotten used to. After their conversation it was almost comforting, a reassuring reminder that it was still there and stagnant. At least it was a dull ache instead of a sharp one like when it had first happened. It actually felt a little better from when he had eased some of the swelling earlier. It became clear each time that sleep was beyond her; she would just end up sitting back up with a sigh and reading the book some more, doomed to repeat the cycle for what felt like hours.

Finally she was done with Spirit, and she moved on to Entropy. When she read the introduction, she shot up. Her gut was screaming this was important.

—The first of the two Schools of Matter,   
Entropy is the opposing force of Creation;   
for this reason it is often called the School of Negation.   
Nothing lives without death.   
Time inevitably brings an end to all things in the material world,   
and yet in this ending is the seed of a beginning.   
A river may flood its banks, causing havoc,   
but bring new life to its floodplain.   
The fire that burns a forest ushers in new growth.   
And so it is with entropic magic   
that we manipulate the forces of   
erosion, decay, and destruction   
to create anew.—

Her nerves were buzzing as she got to some of the common spells in the Entropy school; she tried getting Solas’s attention, frantic for him to come take a look.  
She hissed at him, “Solas…Solas!” She didn’t know how thin or thick the walls were, and didn’t want to wake anyone else up, the compulsion to be quiet too ingrained into her nature to go against now. 

Still nothing. She looked around for something to throw, but the only things near here were the torch, the book itself, her necklace dagger, the pillow, the blanket, or she could take off her shirt and hoped it was heavy enough to rouse him.   
Winter sighed, she would have to crawl over there.

She carefully set the book aside, marking the place and the spell in question. As quickly as she could she crawled across the floor and sat on her knees. She grabbed Solas by the shoulder and shook him, too excited to think that this may not be the best course of action. 

The thought crossed her mind when he moved, faster than she would have thought possible. She didn’t even See it coming. One moment she was sitting on her knees, the next she was flat on her back with his forearm pressed against her throat, a knife inverted in his grip, the blade barely kissing her neck, one of her hands grasped firmly in his, her other arm pinned under the weight of his body, which was now covering hers, and his face scant inches from her own.  
“You were foolish to try and attack me” He hissed at her, his eyes still glazed from going from a full unconscious state to attack mode.

Winter was impressed at his quick response, but she didn’t have time for this, her nerves thrumming too strongly with her potential discovery to the nature of her curse. She wiggled slightly so his weight wasn’t so awkwardly distributed over her body and rasped out, “Solas, stop fooling around. I have something important to show you.” Talking made her throat bob, and she felt the blade cut into her skin, small beads of blood trailing down her throat.  
He blinked, slowly realizing a number of things all at once. First was that he _wasn’t_ under attack. He had been scouring the Fade for Winter again, growing increasingly frustrated when he couldn’t locate her. He had never had this much trouble trying to track down someone, if he were the type to believe in actual higher powers, he would think it was almost like something was interfering. No one ever abruptly tried to rouse him, so he had been sure he had been in immediate danger, that something had gone wrong.

Second, the person he thought was attacking him was actually Winter, who was looking up at him with a nettled expression on her face.

Third, he had cut her neck and she was bleeding.

And last, that without her armor on, he could feel every curve of her through their light clothing, and for someone who went by the moniker Winter, she was surprisingly warm. And her squirming around was not helping this sudden awareness.

Winter raised a brow, her lips pursed to the side, as she watched his expressions change entirely as became fully aware of the situation, their position, and that he was holding a knife to her neck. Unconsciousness had not yet fully released it’s hooks from his mind, and even as his eyes cleared his body did nothing to lessen the awkward position it had her in. And the blade wasn’t her idea of comfort either.

“Solas, you are kind of choking me out here. I’m sorry I woke you, but I don’t think it’s a crime punishable by my death,” She wheezed, the razor edge of her tone blunted by her inability to breath properly. He blinked and at once got off of her, as quickly as if burned.  
“My sincerest apologies, I am not used to be awoken in such a manner.” He slipped the knife back under the back of his tunic and began awkwardly smoothing it down.  
Winter sat up and snorted, rubbing her neck, “You don’t say? I would have never have guessed, what with your mild reaction and all.” She was completely unaware she was smearing the stream of blood all over as she examined herself, gingerly feeling around where her skin was split. She pulled her hand away and frowned at the sticky substance on her fingertips.  
She watched Solas eye her neck, look at her bloody fingers, and back. He looked so stricken with guilt, his hands hovering towards her as if wanting to reassure himself she was all right but not sure if he should touch her or not, that even if she were legitimately pissed, she would have forgiven him. 

Winter gave him a crooked smile, “I feel like we need to address a couple of things, a lot has happened in a short amount of time. Okay, first things first, I’m fine. I’ll live, and I doubt I will even bruise. This little knick will clear up in a few days. It’s nothing. Secondly, I will _never_ try to wake you up ever again. By the Void. Seriously. Unless I am across the room and can throw things at you. Maybe dump a bucket of water and run. What happened to you that that is your reaction when you are sleeping in a safe, enclosed space? Never mind, don’t tell me. If I ever have to wake you up again, I don’t know, I’ll figure it out. Nice reflexes by the way. It’s not often that someone can get the jump on me like that. And lastly, while I have your ear, I accept your apology from earlier. I suppose I should have after you made it, but well, I have a temper and sometimes saying nothing is better than what may come out of my mouth while my blood is on fire.”

Solas sighed, and scrubbed one hand down his face, his expression still sticken, “I feel I still owe you another apology. I reacted without thinking, I would never hurt you knowingly. It’s important to me that you know that.”  
Winter shrugged, “I woke you up rather abruptly, it happens.”

Solas scooted closer, asking a silent question with his eyes, and Winter nodded that it was okay for him to examine her, guessing he wouldn’t relax until he appraised her damage himself. She gave him an amused expression as he gently ran his hands over her throat, tilting her head back to give him better access. His touch was featherlight against her skin. When he licked his sleeve and gently wiped away the blood she almost laughed. 

Solas was mortified. He knew he had set up infallible wards, and he knew Winter was sharing his space with him, but instinct had taken over when he felt his shoulder being violently shaken. She didn’t seem seriously hurt, upset, or even rattled. If he had to put a name to it, he’d say she was amused at the whole situation. He pursed his lips, her reactions were all wrong, she never did anything the way he had come to expect of …anyone really.

He tilted her head down so he could meet her eyes, “Do you mind if I heal this for you?” He gently ran a finger over the sluggishly bleeding cut.  
Winter gave him a considering look, her eyes dancing, “It’s so small, wouldn’t it be a waste of magic? Also, if you heal it, how will I convince the others that you really cut my throat in the middle of the night? Imagine their faces! What I have here is a golden opportunity to further tarnish both our reputations and you’re asking me to throw it away.”  
Solas gave her an unamused look and she felt a small zap at her throat, “Hey! I never said yes!” Her hands flew up to feel the wound site, but were met with smooth, whole flesh. She ignored the lurch her stomach gave at his casual use of magic on her, he had asked, and she was going to let him heal her. Eventually.  
She made a face at him, “Spoilsport.”  
Solas gave her a deadpan look, “If you are truly disappointed I can always re-administer the wound.” Then his face became exasperated, as if he couldn’t help himself, “You can not seriously have wanted to go around telling everyone that I slit your throat in the middle of the night!”  
“Well now we will never know.”  
Solas was ready to wring the neck he had just healed, she was so infuriating, never a straight answer, “Yes we will, you could just tell me! How are you not livid with me? I could have seriously hurt you! I could have killed you!” He looked at the end of his patience.

Winter resisted the urge to press her palms into her eyes. This was apparently the theme of the night. Solas couldn’t figure out her mind, and as someone who was not used to being surprised, she knew she was taxing him. She reminded herself it was because he cared, and she needed to have patience. The thought of him caring about her warmed her heart a bit, and she found it was much easier to answer honestly at the thought. She took a deep breathe and met his gaze calmly, all trace of humor gone.   
 “Solas, I know it could have been worse. But I also know it was not on purpose. And I’m okay, truly I am. I’m just teasing you. I don’t believe you would have killed me, and if you had, I know you would have felt really bad about it. It was a small little knick, I’ve had worse. And you think you’re the first person to pull a knife on me? Puh-lease. If I got pissed every time that happened….” She trailed off, then slowly took on an offended air, “Actually, now that you mention it, I _do_ get pissed every other time that’s happened! Why aren’t I mad at you?” She screwed her face up like she was thinking hard.

Comically, Solas looked relieved that she was mustering up something akin to anger at his actions. Her casual disregard for his causing her bodily harm were doing nothing to alleviate his guilt, and making him worry more about her well being. She had been more angry with him earlier over words. His relief was short lived as she went on.

Winter smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand, “Oh yea, maybe it’s because **you saved my life at the top of the stairs by keeping me from plummeting down them and over the side**. And took care of me when I was a drunken mess. And have dedicated the better part of two days to help to decursify me. Solas, if I ever doubted any of your intentions with me, I’d look at your deliberate actions, not the survival instincts I startled out of you in the middle of the night.” 

Solas took in her earnest expression and her open posture. He finally felt the guilt start to leave him, tension following. Winter felt the edges of her lips curl into a small smile as she saw him relaxing. He rubbed the back of his neck and she saw how much blood had actually gotten on his sleeve.   
“Freaking A, is all that from me?”  
Solas looked at his sleeve in surprise, “Yea, it is. Why?”  
“It’s just a lot more than I was expecting. Maybe I should be more mad at you. How bad was that cut? And also your shirt is probably ruined.” Winter glanced around, “Do you even own another shirt? You’re going to be stuck wearing my blood forever if not”  
Solas calmly met her gaze, “Do you own another shirt?”  
“Of course, I have a spare in my pack. I’m not an animal.”  
“All right, mystery solved then”  
Winter gave her startled laugh, her eyes lighting up that he was teasing her, “Ok, well you’ve obviously moved on from self-loathing, that’s good. I’m actually glad my blood is all over you. It’ll give this story more credibility tomorrow when I tell it.”

Solas shook his head and furrowed his brows. He marveled at how much a difference 72 hours could make. The teasing, impish elf in front of him so different from the quiet, closed off one from when they first met. For the first time in a long time, it made him feel hopeful about the future, knowing such drastic changes can happen so quickly. As quickly as his hope flared, it died. There was no happy future for him. He scrubbed his hand down his face again, “Did you say that I would feel bad if I had accidentally killed you, implying that would make it okay?”  
Winter shrugged, “Not okay, but I’m sure it would have been a comfort to me in the afterlife, knowing that it was an accident.”  
Solas groaned, “You’re impossible. And I am letting this go. Didn’t you say there was a reason you woke me up? It couldn’t be simply to tell me that you accepted my apology.”

Winter’s eyes grew wide, “Holy bitches how could I forget! I think I figured out what I’m cursed with!” She scuttled awkwardly back over to where the book was and retrieved it, and turned back around, eyeing the distance between them distastefully.  
“How about you come to me, since it’s so awkward for me to move?”   
Solas was giving her an indiscernible look. He fluidly got to his feet and came towards her, his tone mildly disbelieving, “You think you found out the curse? In that book?”

Solas swallowed as he realized how that had came out, but Winter met his eyes challengingly, her lips turning into a sneer, “I think I’ll let you read it with your own eyes, and let your ego implode itself on the fact that a _non-mage, who knows next to nothing about magic_ solved a magical problem in under 3 days that stumped you. With a beginner’s book that you deemed a waste of time.”   
She flipped open the book to the page in question as he sat down across from her, and as soon as he was settled she shoved the book in his lap.  
“Well, go on, read for yourself and tell me I’m right.”  
He wisely kept silent as he skimmed the passage. She had been reading in the Entropy section of the book. Winter impatiently stabbed near the bottom of the page, where the actual spell was listed. It was the Curse of Mortality. Solas bit his lip as his mind whirled. It was an old school of magic, one he had assumed had fallen out of fad as these things tended to, he hadn’t seen anyone using it since he awoken. But clearly he had been mistaken. 

The actual description of the spell was **“The caster curses a target with the inevitability of true death. While cursed, it cannot heal or regenerate health and takes continuous Spirit damage.”**

That certainly explained why Winter wasn’t healing or getting better. His heart gave a hopeful lurch, and maybe why he couldn’t seem to find her in the Fade, perhaps the Spirit Damage mentioned was weakening her spirit, making her presence in the Fade nonexistent. It certainly explained more than it didn’t. He bit his lip, deep in thought. Normally the Curse of Morality wore off within a few hours of being cast. For it to drag on for this long…he would have to mull over how. But the question still remained, why? There was something he was missing, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of what.  
He looked up from the book and into her expectant face. Someone had to have wished her very ill to do this. They would have had supplemented their magic for an extra boost, to make it so lasting. Either with raw lyrium, or a blood sacrifice. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. Blood magic was forbidden here, so anyone willing to resort to it had to be desperate, and probably wasn’t using their own blood. They have to had wanted her to suffer with every fiber of their being for it to be this potent.

She had scooted closer to him while he was reading and was a lot closer than he anticipated when his eyes came back into focus.  
“Well….?!” She gestured wildly with her hands.   
Solas slowly hedged, “I don’t want to say for certain that it is this, but it fits better than anything else I have come up with.”  
“HAHA sucker! I WIN!!!!” And she pumped her fist. She glanced at him and her expression sobered, and she shook her head in mock sadness, “But how embarrassing for you.” and reached out to pat his arm. 

As if she couldn’t help herself she brightened again, “And for Dorian! And he’s the Necromancer! Death, inevitable or otherwise, is his speciality! Wouldn’t a rotting curse be in his arsenal? Oh this is going to be great, I can’t wait to see him later to rub this in forever. You patronizing shits. Bested by a novice. Hehe” She tried to look menacing, but was too giddy at the prospect of _finally_ having an answer and a possible cure. If Solas knew how to reverse this she would lose her mind. Hope had bloomed so forcibly in her chest she thought she would explode.  
Solas twisted his lips, surprised to find himself feeling more relieved to maybe have an answer and amused at her reactions than slighted that she had figured something out that he was unable to. And despite the more sinister thoughts the answer held. Something must be wrong with him to find her charming. But with her eyes shining the way they were and her lips in a hopeful grin, he couldn’t be bothered to dig into why that should be wrong to be taken with her.

Then he frowned at the page, wondering if she knew, “This mentions Spirit damage, have you felt any different? Noticed any changes? I know you don’t possess magic, but Elves are still more sensitive to it than other non-mages. Have you noticed anything, no matter how small. A change in your dreams perhaps?”

That sombered Winter, as realization struck. She schooled her features into one of puzzled consideration, not wanting to give anything away. This had to be why her Sight was so wonky lately. Why she couldn’t See things, why she was surprised by events so often lately. The force of her ‘gift’ was too great to be dulled much, but it was affected nonetheless. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth as her expression turned thoughtful. Maybe once this was reversed she would be able to See her future again. She lowered her eyes so they wouldn’t betray her thoughts. What if she saw something in Solas’s she didn’t like, couldn’t handle?   
This was the longest she had ever been in someones presence and not gotten a vision. Not even a hint. Her gut wasn’t even nudging her in any ways. She felt normal. Or how she supposed normal people felt. If nothing else, Solas was precious to her because he was a mystery. Beyond knowing their futures were intertwined, he was a blind spot. She knew this should make her anxious, but it was such a relief she didn’t care. Knowing so much about people was why she avoided them. She always Saw things that were deal-breakers. Be it a choice they made in the past, or how they would let her down in the future. The dance of trying to act dumb so they didn’t guess her ability was exhausting. Or think she spied on them. She was learning about Solas as she went, and she found the experience novel and exciting. She sighed, as much as she liked not knowing, reality demanded she needed to be healed. She couldn’t keep going half-blind. And she needed her leg.

But how to answer his question? She couldn’t very well tell him that she was indeed taking Spirit damage because she wasn’t getting regular Visions of her future. She hadn’t been sleeping well lately anyway (if she slept at all, drunken stupor non-withstanding), so she decided to go with the dream excuse he had unknowingly offered her. Once she was sure she had her expression under control, she met Solas’s eyes, “Now that you mention it, I haven’t been having as many dreams as I normally would. I just figured it was because I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Or at all.”

Solas nodded, accepting her answer. Since she wasn’t well versed in the Fade, he hadn’t expected her to realize anything was amiss. And given the nature of this magic, it was likely it was a gradual decrease and she wouldn’t notice it tapering off anyway.   
“You do not sleep much?” Relief spread heavy and warm through his chest. The Curse of Morality was fitting so many pieces into place.  
Winter shook her head, “Not for months. Now that you pointed it out, it didn’t get really bad until after I hurt my leg….” She worried her lip. She was connecting dots and something clicked, a detail she had been missing for awhile. Her sleep _had_ been disrupted for months now, at so slow a pace she never realized. She turned large eyes on Solas, “I think I was cursed before, at Haven. I mean before Haven fell. At Haven. I mean someone cursed me while I was at Haven, when I first got there. And it didn’t get bad until I got injured.” She eyed her leg, despite her efforts to remain calm, dread had sunk it’s hooks into her gut. An overwhelming impulse to cut off the appendage and be done with it overcame her, and she took a few deep breathes and reminded herself that that was a terrible idea, Solas would fix her. He knew this magic stuff, he would find a way that didn’t turn her into a peg-legged liability. 

Solas was oblivious to her mounting alarm, “Now the question is how to get it out of you? And then of course, who cursed you.”

Winter’s shoulders slumped, and she put her face in her hands to hide her disappointment, “I was kind of hoping that once we knew what it was, there would be an ‘AH-HA’ moment and you would know exactly how to get it out.”  
She glared up into his face, “And if you give me some scholarly answer about how magic isn’t simple waving your fingers and takes research, I will-“  
Solas put up his hands, “I know, I know, you’ll punch me.”   
Winter gave him a dirty look, “Actually I was going to say roll my eyes and tune you out.”  
He arched a brow, “Really?”  
“Of course not, we both know I was going to say punch you in the face.”   
She quirked her lips to the side, attempting some levity to distract herself from her inner turmoil, “Guess I’ll have to get more creative with my threats. You’re starting to figure me out and I don’t think I like becoming predictable.”   
Solas snorted, “I don’t think you will ever have to worry about that.”  
Winter gave him a pleased smile, “I’m glad you think so.”

Solas glanced at the window, seeing that the sky was starting to lighten. He turned back to Winter and for the first time really looked at her. When she mentioned she hadn’t been sleeping well he his mind had clicked things into place. And now that he knew what he was looking for, he could see how truly tired she was. Her skin, while always pale, was now pallid. She had dark circles forming under her eyes. Her eyes themselves were taking on a glazed edge, and every so often she would shake her head as if trying to clear it. He was concerned and annoyed all at once. Sleep was both important to healing, and her lack of it was very much throwing a wrench in his Fade plans. He realized his determination to find her in the Fade was becoming fanatical, but the more obstacles in his way, the more determined he was. His instincts were telling him that meeting her in her dreams would reveal some important piece of information, some hidden key he was missing.  
He gave her a disapproving look, “Have you slept at all?”  
Winter shook her head again, giving him a perturbed look, “Do I look like I have? Do I appear fresh as a daisy? Of course I haven’t slept.”  
“Why ‘of course?’”  
Winter’s tone was incredulous, “Are you serious? After our lively-hearted conversation earlier, and that terror-inducing, nightmare of a book you seem to think is light-reading, you think I could possibly sleep after all that?” She was tired she was more candid than usual with her feelings.

Solas frowned, “The book upset you?”  
Winter looked at him in disbelief, “Solas, thanks to that book, I now know a mage cursed me to never heal and continuously attack my Spirit. That is _one_ of hundreds of ways that a magic user could end my life. At a distance. Without my knowing. What do you think?”  
She hated the flash of disappointment that briefly ghosted across his features, but she couldn’t help how she felt. Especially since she **had** been cursed from a distance without her knowing. Her life was in danger and the worst of it was, _there was no way she could have prevented it_. But she had to say something, had to make him somehow understand from her side of it. She actually cared about his opinion of her.

“Solas, I want to be friends, and I’m trying, really trying, to get past this uneasiness of magic thing I have. But can’t you see where I might have a point? A reason to be scared and wary?”  
He was looking at her with an unreadable expression, his arms crossed over his chest. Winter’s frustration grew, she wasn’t doing a very good job at explaining this, and his posture was getting more defensive. She needed him to understand how hard this was for her. 

“Please don’t be upset.” She scrubbed her hands down her temples, “Let me try again.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth a few times, before brightening with a thought. She held out her hands, pointing to him “Ok, so you have a knife. You come at me with the knife. I see the knife, counter your attack, and get away. I know knife combat, I can protect myself there. I can counter a blade. I can even counter an arrow. I’m not defenseless. But say you throw a fire ball at me. I can’t make a shield with my will. I can’t form a wall of ice. I can attempt to jump to the side, or hope that whatever I’m wearing won’t go up in flames, **but I have no way to protect myself**. I have no defenses against magic. I can’t counter a spell. And that…” her voice hitched, “that is an uncomfortable feeling.”  
He still hadn’t reacted, and Winter drooped with sorrow and failure, hunching down and covering her face. She thought for sure that would put it into perspective. She decided to give it one last go from behind her hands before admitting defeat. “Someone cursed me, trying to slowly kill me in a cruel way. Maybe this curse wouldn’t kill me outright, but over time, never healing, I might as well be dead. It would get to the point where I was too weak, too broken to fight for my life. I’d be an easy target. Or never sleeping? Do you know what happens to people that never sleep? Hallucinations. Delusions. They lose their minds. Again, I’d be an easy target for someone to pick off. Either way is a horrible way to go. They wanted me to suffer.” Her voice got quieter, “Can’t you see why this would frighten me?”  
She straightened up and met his gaze, weary resolve hardening her eyes. “And I will not apologize for being scared of something that could do that. I’m trying to get past it, but it will take time. If you don’t think we can be friends after all, I understand.”

She looked around, and her lips pressed in a thin line, “I can actually start packing up now. I’ll just need you to lower the wards so I can get out…”  
She started to turn to get up, but she paused when he laid a hand on her arm. Winter glanced hopefully up at him.

Solas sighed. Winter didn’t possess magic, she couldn’t understand what a gift it was. To her, it was a scary tool she struggled to understand. Back before, when all Elvhen had the gift, this wouldn’t have even warranted a conversation. But things were so different now. She didn’t have magic. And she had some good points. It was hard for him to admit and see things from the other side. And she had never treated him or Dorian with any different than she treated anyone else, despite her fear. But she was trying so hard. Both to understand magic, and to work through her fear of it. The Curse of Morality was a vicious way to go, weakening the body until something else picked it off. And she hadn’t even known she’d been cursed. She had no defenses against this.   
And as someone who prided herself on being able to take care of herself, admitting her weakness had to eat away at her.

He sucked in a quick breathe, if Zelda hadn’t taken it upon herself to terrorize him, Winter probably would have died, sooner rather than later. The thought pinched uncomfortably. And for the first time in a long time, he felt…protective of someone. He wanted to find whoever had cursed her and make them suffer, and after they begged for death, walking away and leaving them to the wolves. They way she had been left. She was so precious and for someone to attempt to cut her already fleeting life shorter….  
He needed to touch her, to reassure himself that she was real and okay and here. He didn’t know how he was suddenly so attached, but he was. He should probably be more upset about his feelings, but he didn’t have time to think on them now. He needed to stop Winter and assure her that he didn’t want her to go.

So he had reached out and gently placed his hand on her arm, she was so hopeful at the gesture he couldn’t help but give her a slight smile.  
“It is hard to admit, seeing as how I am a mage and the automatic fear and distrust rankles, but I do see your point. And I still want to be friends. Since you are willing to work on this, I am willing to be patient”  
Winter placed her hand on his and gripped it tightly, briefly before releasing it, that small gesture relieving her beyond measure. Her eyes still held that hard edge, and he was dismayed to see that her walls had gone back up. Her expressive eyes no longer open. “Oh thank goodness. Because how awkward would that have been, to explain tomorrow that we are no longer friends and you were leaving me to die in a fit of jealousy after I figured out what the curse was.”

He gave her a disapproving frown, “That is not how it happened”  
She gave him a pitying look, “Solas, I am an injured liability. A nobody. Anyone could do my job, so long as they were stealthy and could navigate some trees. You are known as a knowledgeable, wise mage elf. Who also happens to be close friends with the Inquisitor. Who is also a mage elf. If I didn’t word it that way, I’d be run off and left to die on my own. We’ve already established I have no defenses against magic. So for sheer self-preservation I’d have to say something like that so that they let me stay.”

He shook his head, a dry twist to his lips, “Your talent for deception is admirable.”  
She give him a wry grin, “I’m glad you think so. They wouldn’t throw you out, you know. You’re too important. I heard the advisors talking. Your expertise is too appreciated and necessary. But I think with that angle they would at least let me stay until _someone_ could pull this curse out of my leg.” She bit her lips, considering, “Combined with the fact that you slit my throat…”  
Solas groaned, “Ok, well it’s a moot point. We are still friends, I did not slit your throat, and I am not kicking you out of my room or my life. So let’s move on and please stop plotting ways to ruin both our reputations.”

 

Winter nodded, “You’re right. We have other things to focus on. Like how to get rid of this.” She gestured toward her leg, but stopped mid-wave. She cocked her head to the side, as a sudden thought occurred to her, and chilled her bones. She couldn’t See who did this. She always Saw when someone was going to hurt her. But she never Saw this coming. She had thought about this before, but for the first time she delved deeper into why someone would do this to her and how. What if they knew? What if they knew she was a Seer, and hand-picked this curse to get to her? How would they slip past her Visions? How would they have found out? How would they have cursed her without her Seeing it? Her unknown enemy was more insidious than she realized. The book only listed a few other curses, but if death was the aim there were quicker ways to go about it. Ways that didn’t involve crippling her. Ways that didn’t involve weakening her to the point of death. She wanted to dismiss that line of thinking, but what if it rang true? Then reversing the curse might be the only way to figure out who it was that cast it.   
But now they knew what it was, and she was forcing herself to be confident that they would find a way. Her face turned feral. And then she would make whoever did this pay. She grasped her thoughts of violence and retribution and pulled them close, using them as a buffer for her fear and uncertainty. Chasing the circles of her own thoughts was getting her nowhere, and she needed to focus on getting better before pondering how best to met out retribution.

Solas watched carefully as something like panic flickered over Winter’s features before morphing into an expression he hoped was never aimed at him. When she raised her eyes and met his, the fire behind them scattered his thoughts. Her voice was steel, “So, any ideas?”  
He pursed his lips, when she got like this, it was all he could do to not touch her. Her Spirit was intoxicating. She felt everything so intensely, the force of her emotions like a palpable aura around her. She usually tried to be so calm, but they were slipping out more and more.   
He swallowed his inappropriate thoughts, focusing on the details, “Unfortunately, no. This is different than what I have encountered before. This curse is normally short-lived. It fades hours after being cast. But yours has lingered for weeks, seemingly months. We agree that it was placed on you awhile ago. I think your actual injury being what triggered it.”  
“But we decided that it’s been slowly leeching my spirit for a long time now. Are you suggesting that someone is continuously cursing me every time it wears off? And no one around here has noticed?”  
He shook his head, “Slowly, but not until it woke up did it start aggressively leeching it. I do not believe that someone is hiding in the Keep, cursing you every few hours. No, this is the same affliction you’ve had for months. Somehow they’ve changed it. Charged it some way, made it exponentially more powerful than it ever should have been. Made it longer lasting. Removing it will require -”  
Winter groaned, finishing his sentence with him, “research. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” She ran her hands over her face again, before combing them through her hair aggressively.   
His voice was gentle, “We have some answers now, and should be able to make real progress.”  
“I suppose I should be grateful that we know what it is I have and are moving in the right direction. It just doesn’t feel like progress. I feel like we found one answer and a million more questions.”  
She gave him a serious look, “Are you even going to have time to help me? The Inquisitor won’t be out on mission forever. Eventually she will come back, sooner rather than later, and when she does, who is to say she won’t want you to go out with her next? What will happen to me then?” Worry gnawed through her gut. Today was when the Inquisitors message would arrive. She would follow within the week, and within another day, would set out again with the full army of the Inquisition to face the Wardens. Solas among them.   
Guilt chased the worry. She was so concerned with her own life, she had forgotten the plight of the Wardens, and what horrible mistakes they were making under their fear. Logically she knew the needs of the many outweighed the needs of one, but the one being her, she knew she would never be objective. Plus she was important. While she hadn’t Seen anything, she could feel it in her bones. Somehow she was to be integral in the future, and no amount of hiding and pretending otherwise would change that. Why else would she have the Sight of this magnitude? It simply couldn’t be a quirk of fate. In her heart of hearts she knew that was way she had joined the Inquisition. She told others it was because she was bored and didn’t want the world to end, but she was drawn here. Not that she could ever tell anyone. She couldn’t insist to Solas that she was important. She hoped by virtue of them being friends Solas would make her curse as much of a priority as he could. 

It was still so strange, to think she had someone who cared about her now. A confirmed friend anyway. That there was a person she cared about. Multiple someones, if she was going to be honest. She had a sneaking suspicion that she was now friends with several other individuals as well, or at least on her way if she wasn’t already. Blackwall, Varric, Bull, and Dorian clamoring unbidden to her conscious thought. It was such a foreign concept it was a struggle to wrap her mind around it. There were people who cared about her. She tabled it for another time. She had too much going, she didn’t have the mental resources to process more than she was already juggling.

Solas was regarding Winter carefully. He was surprised to realize he wished he could tell her that he would do nothing else until he was able to find a cure. The more information they found out about her affliction, the more dangerous he realized her situation was, and the more he wanted to lift it. Even more than he wanted to deal with this Corypheus. Solas frowned, she was rapidly becoming an obsession of his. 

“Winter, I promise that I will do what I can to lift this curse as soon as I can. If the Inquisitor should require my aid, I will have to go with her. But even if I am out in the field, I can search the Fade to try and find answers. Besides, she never takes out large teams. If I do go with her, chances are Dorian will be left behind, and he will continue to search for a way to cure you.”

 

Winter nodded sadly, expecting that answer. If she was the praying type, now would be when she prayed that their research was fruitful this week, and that Solas would be able to concentrate. Although, would the message tell what Evangalie had found out? Or would it just say that she had urgent news and would arrive back in a week? She nibbled her lip, once all three had put their heads together, they were able to find out what it was that was wrong with her. Now that they were on the right track, who is to say that the three of them couldn’t come up with a solution? Honestly she would have never figured out the answer on her own, if Solas hadn’t given her that book, and if Dorian hadn’t talked her into giving it a chance. It had taken all three of them working together. Although she thinks it was luck that she happened to figure it out more than anything. She didn’t have any magical knowhow, would have never gotten here on her own. Maybe they could crack this before the week was up. 

She shook her head again, the long night and emotional rollercoaster catching up with her. Solas took in her exhaustion, debating if she would be open to drinking some relaxing tea to help her sleep. He didn’t think she would, sleep was when she was vulnerable and the thought of not being in control was repulsive to her. But she really needed to get some rest.

“Since it’s morning I will head back to the library. Since we know what the curse is and it’s added challenges add a bit of urgency, I’ll forgo my usual morning staff exercises. If I get you some, Winter would you be willing to drink some tea to help you sleep?”  
Her eyes widened a fraction, and suspicion crept into her eyes. “Why?”  
He held his hands up to show he meant no ill intent, “Because you need to rest. You said it yourself that lack of sleep can lead to madness and death. You have to try, and if you can’t relax, there’s no shame in taking something to help you.”

Her eyes darted to the door and around the room, “Does this tea knock me out? Or just help me relax to fall asleep? Can I wake up? Will I be safe in here?”  
Solas made calming motions with his hands, “It doesn’t knock you out, it does just help you relax so you can fall asleep easier. It will do nothing to keep you asleep once there. And if you like, I can reset the wards after I leave so that no one will chance in here by accident. Not even the servants. But Winter, you really need sleep and I think this is the best thing for you.”

Winter slowly nodded, he was right, she did need rest. “But I feel like I should be helping. I can’t sleep while you guys work so hard to help me. I’ll appear ungrateful. I am who figured out the curse after all. I am clearly integral to the pro-pro-process.” She yawned so big she thought her jaw would break, “And if I sleep in here, how will I gloat to Dorian that I’m the one who figured out the curse in the first place?”  
Solas’s lips twitched in spite of himself. She was so tired her eyes kept drooping closed and her speech was broken by yawns. Her voice got softer and softer, and Solas felt like maybe he wouldn’t even need the tea, but when she jolted upright and looked around, reaching out to rub her ankle in a panic, he opted to bring some just in case.

“No, in your state you would miss things. And I don’t think you want to sleep in the middle of a crowded library. I’ll be right back.”  
Solas slipped out of the room after lowering the wards. Once alone, Winter decided she had time to make a quick trip down to the water closet. She shakily got up and grabbed her crutches. She peeked her head out the door, the hallway was clear. It was still very early, the sun barely peeking over the horizon so she felt her chances were really good to not run into anyone. The trip down was uneventful, and she felt better for having cleaned her teeth and splashed her face with some water. It was on the way back that one of the other rooms opened, and Bull strode out. He leaned back in the door to say something softly to the rooms occupant before shutting the door and starting to stride away. Winter grinned in spite of herself, she had a feeling she knew who’s room that was. It seems that when she didn’t show for their ambush last night, Dorian and Bull had found other ways to occupy their time. 

At least something good was coming from her involvement. She slipped silently back into Solas’s room. She was attempting to get comfortable on his bed when he came back in with a tray with a teapot on it and a cup.  
Wordlessly he handed her a cup of tea. Winter eyed is suspiciously, swirling the contents around a few times before taking a sniff. Her nose wrinkled a bit at the smell. “What is this anyway? What’s it made from?”  
“Chamomile, sweetened with a bit of honey. It’s good, you’ll like it.”  
She cautiously took a sip, and her face relaxed, it’s taste was pleasant. She nodded her thanks and downed the cups contents.  
She laid down and missed the surprised look on Solas’s face at her chugging a cup of hot tea. But she seemed unbothered.   
He backed out of the room, “I will check on you around midday.”  
As he shut the door behind him he heard her quiet, “Thanks Solas”  
He smiled as he set the wards and set off towards the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, tell me what you think!


	7. But we gotta finish the job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't decided if Zelda is a regular cat or not. 
> 
> Also sorry for the delay, work has been unexpectedly busy. Like super freaking busy. 
> 
> The second hardest part of writing this is picking out chapter titles.

The tea was nice. Solas had sweetened it with a bit of honey, she recognized the taste. She guessed it was to try and mask the slightly bitter hint of elfroot. Winter smiled as she nestled more into the blankets, he was trying to fortify her a bit without magic. The thought was as warming and as comforting as the tea itself. If this is what it was like to have someone who cared about you, she could get used to it.   
She frowned as a thought occurred to her, it would also be something that she missed when she slunk away when this was all over. The realization was uncomfortable. Banishment had not stung so much before when she had known she was losing no one. When she had no ties. The only difference between her life with the clan and the one on her own was she no longer had to hunt for the group, but she also no longer had access to goods the others had made. 

She had had to go from mostly to completely self-sufficient almost overnight, or figure out how to barter for things that she needed when she needed them. Learning to pickpocket had helped, and her Sight sometimes gave her an advantage, if she limited herself to less crowded areas. 

But now, she feared she would actually miss other people. It would make the loneliness even more biting that she knew exactly what she was missing. She sighed, it was inevitable now. Rolling to the other side in the bed, she mulled over at how different actually living things were versus Seeing it play out in her mind. She had thought she could understand relationships, had dismissed them as unnecessary. They seemed a lot of work for very little reward, but she had only been fooling herself. No wonder so many made so many bad decisions. Emotions were awful and hard to separate from the equation. She was increasingly compromised due to these attachments that kept popping up. She settled down into the blankets, trying to get comfortable. She had promised Solas that she would try to sleep, and she could feel the tea beginning to work. The tension was melting from her muscles and her drowsiness grew, the mad race of her thoughts slowing. She forcefully turned her mind away from the unsettling thoughts. 

She inhaled deeply, and let it out slowly, contently. For someone who claimed to rarely use his bed, it smelled like him. It was a further comfort and helped calm her mind. She buried her face in his pillow and sighed happily. She trusted Solas. She would not have drank the tea otherwise. He was proving to be a steadfast friend. She wondered if there was a way she could repay him, for all that he was doing for her. Unbidden an image of her kissing him came to her mind, and she was too tired to push it away. She wondered what it would be like, to kiss someone. Their fates were intertwined, she knew from experience fighting it would only make it hurt more. Destiny would not be denied, and it punished those who tried most horribly. Her defenses were too down from her exhaustion and how relaxed she was, and she was glad Solas was not here. She knew she would become a babbling mess of confessions. She was dimly glad that he was gone, and the rational part of her mind whispered that when she woke up, she would be in control again of her own thoughts. 

And finally with with that last thought she drifted off to sleep in what felt like the first time in forever.

~~~

Once the door was shut behind him, Solas looked up and down the hallway. Seeing it empty, he put the wards back up on the room. Once that was done he drew his knife, and carefully cut the blood spot out of his sleeve. He folded the square gently and tucked it into the small pouch he kept under his tunic. He rolled back his sleeves up to mid forearm, and made a mental note to see the quartermaster for a replacement or a way to mend his shirt later. Once that task was done he set off. 

Solas was pensive as he made his way to the library. He hoped that for her sake Winter was able to finally get some rest. Maybe he would check on her midmorning. He intended to let her sleep until noon, guessing she would not want to sleep much longer than that, especially because they were so much closer to figuring out how to cure her. He was sorely tempted to follow her, but as she had pointed out, time was limited and he did not want to leave with her at anything less than healthy. Knowing the nature of the curse was only half the battle. If only there was someone here who specialized in healing magic. They would have to be powerful. And if his suspicions of Blood Magic were correct, they would probably also need to combine power of multiple mages to negate the blood sacrifice used to cast the curse to begin with.

The more he considered it, the more certain he was that that was what had been done in the first place. Raw lyrium was too hard to come by, too scarce, and too expensive. If Winter had an enemy that powerful, surely she of all people would know. She seemed to know everything that went on here anyway, how someone could slip by her and curse her was beyond him.

Besides, a refugee would be easy enough to kidnap. The right one’s disappearance would not even be noticed, or investigated. With the Templars and the Mages providing a convenient war as cover, any deaths or disappearances would be considered normal. But how would they have cast it at Haven without anyone else knowing? What would they have done with the body?

Blood magic weakened the connection to the Fade, so it was not likely he would have felt anything. But would the others? There was a chance it was cast before Dorian was recruited, Winter said she was one of the first to join. The Inquisitor was gone too frequently, it was unlikely she was familiar enough with Blood Magic or even there at the time the curse had been cast. That left Vivienne. She had maneuvered her way in early on. She was a Knight Enchanter, trained at a Circle. She would be the best candidate to sense something. He let out a breath heavily, talking to Vivienne was always taxing. She made no secret of her disdain for his dress or his ideals about magic. But she was a professional, and if there was someone going around cursing people with Blood Magic, that would be abhorrent enough to her to want to put a stop to it. He was just hoping that he and Dorian would be able to come up with a solution before the other mage returned. He did not think that Winter would get along with the Vivienne as well. 

He pursed his lips, he was not even sure he would be able to get Winter in the same room as her if she could help it. He remembered the way her gaze had traveled over Vivienne’s haunt the night before. She had eyed the area the way a hunter would eye the known lair of a dangerous predator, wary and distrustful. And Winter was everything Vivienne would dislike. She was proudly common, made no secret of her dislike of society, people, and magic. He could guess how she would feel about The Game and politics. However, he could not shake the feeling that getting Vivienne’s help on this situation would be beneficial. He made a mental note to look into the spells that a Knight-Enchanter would know.

As his thoughts tended to, they drifted over how much magic had changed since he’d been asleep. These so called Knight-Enchanters were but pale comparisons to the Arcane Warriors of his time. His remembered Arcane Warriors as the elite of the elite guardsmen, they protected ancient elven nobles. While not everyone agreed with their path, their honor was never in question. Their prowess was never questioned. They were the perfect example of the mind shaping the body into the perfect weapon. 

He had initially been dismayed to learn the Inquisitor had decided to follow in the footsteps of the Knight-Enchanter, but when she pointed out that she thought the ancient elves would be proud that their techniques lived on in some form, he relented that she had a point. It just did not sit well with him that yet another thing the elves had made had been commandeered by humans, it’s origins ignored. But seeing her in action, how she expertly wielded a Spirit Blade had banished any lingering doubts. She indeed would have made the ancient elves proud at her prowess. 

Finally he entered the library. Despite feeling like he had gotten a late start, he was still among the first to arrive. Solas took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He needed to clear his mind. He would not get anywhere if his head was troubled and unfocused. The urgency in Winter’s eyes about finding a cure before he had to leave had spooked him. He got the uncanny feeling that she knew something, that she always knew much more than she let on. He could personally attest to how observant she was, but it seemed to go beyond that. She was very well informed for someone who kept to them self. He sternly guided his thoughts back to the task at hand. He decided that the first thing he would research would be healing spells. Perhaps there would be something in those tomes about how to rid oneself of curses. 

Although now that he knew what it was, maybe more research into the actual curse itself? And how they could have augmented it? It was there as he was considering where to begin that Dorian found him. Even at the early hour, the Tevinter Mage was put together, not one hair out of place.   
He looked at Solas, then peered around him, clearly looking for Winter. “What, she not here today? Did you run her off already? That was fast, but not unexpected. It appears Bull owes me a drink.”

Solas cast him an irritated look, “I did not run her anywhere. She’s resting. Last night was taxing for her.”  
One of Dorian’s eyebrows inched up his forehead, “Is that so? And what, pray tell, was so taxing about it?”  
Solas resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “She stayed up all night reading that book on the different schools of magic.”  
Dorian looked impressed, “Well she is dedicated, I’ll give her that. I did not expect her to throw herself so devotedly into studies.” He paused to tap his chin, “Although since it is her life at stake, maybe it is not so unusual.”  
Solas nodded, “That is not all, her determination paid off. She figured out what it seems her curse is.” He didn’t think it was prudent to tell Dorian about how deep Winter’s mistrust of magic ran, and that is what had partly kept her awake. If she wanted the other mage to know, she would tell him.   
Dorian’s other eyebrow joined it’s twin in an incredulous look, and both were in danger of disappearing into his hairline, “Did she now? Imagine that, and her with no prior knowledge of magic.”  
Solas nodded, “Yes, a fact she was quick to point out last night when she woke me up to gloat.”  
Dorian’s eyebrows dropped, he didn’t bother to try and hide the smirk stretching his lips, his tone delighted, “Oh she did? How very mature of her.”  
Solas gave him a mild look, “I am glad you find this amusing. Because she mentioned that when she wakes up, she will greatly enjoy rubbing your face in it as well.”  
Dorian sputtered, “Me? But what did I do? You’re the one that gave her the remedial magic book with the implication she was uneducated!”

Solas shrugged a shoulder, his lips holding a hint of humor, “I do not want to completely spoil her fun, but I believe she mentioned something about how you specialized in death magic and were unable to detect a death curse. Also more along the vein that she is not magically inclined in the slightest and was able to find an answer her problem with the first book.”  
Dorian pursed his lips, “Very well. Wait, did you say a death curse? What curse does she have?”

All traces of humor gone, Solas gave him a grave look, “The Curse of Morality.”  
Dorian swore, “Of all the pox ridden schools of magic. Entropy magic isn’t even fashionable these days! You Southerners are always so behind….” He put his hands on his hips and turned around, angrily surveying the books, as if they were to blame. He turned back to Solas after a few breathes with a grim expression on his face, “How sure are you?”  
Solas looked at him calmly, “Very. Although I do not recall the curse being as powerful as hers is ever before.”  
“How powerful?”  
“Well, the Curse of Morality is normally short lived, wearing off shortly after battle, within hours at the most. It appears whoever cast it this time made it latent somehow. It did not trigger the first time until she got injured, just began slowly leeching away her Spirit after it was cast. So slowly she did not even notice until it was pointed out last night. It’s been preventing her from healing, as you already know, but it has also been preventing her from sleeping. It seems to be waiting for something else to fully awaken, but I am not sure what.”

Dorian’s lips thinned, he brows knit as he was clearly thinking hard. But Solas wasn’t done, “Which brings me to more bad news, I think the curse was augmented with blood magic. And not just a little cut, I think a full sacrifice. It is the only thing that makes sense.”   
Dorian swore again so vehemently that Solas raised a brow at his choice of words, and actually glanced around to make sure no one else was around to hear him. He turned back to Dorian stalking toward a bookshelf. He glanced up at Solas, running his hand angrily through his hair, “We have to reverse this. We have to heal her, and then we need to find out who it is that did this. If they can do this once, they can surely do it again. I find often in more creative and inventive ways as well. Perhaps on a larger scale.”

That was an aspect Solas had not considered, he tilted his head as Dorian went on, “What if Winter was a test run? A way to track the changes they created? What if that’s why no one else has been cursed? This person, they could be watching her, waiting for her to die, so they can swoop in and take notes on how best to speed up the process in the future. This could be the first step in their plans to slowly pick off our people one by one”  
“A grim thought”  
Dorian nodded, clearly simmering with anger, “We need to keep her somewhere safe. The curse should not have taken this long to kill her, since that was their ultimate goal. Or even lasted this long period. They may try to abduct her to speed up the process, or they may try and curse her again. With something else.”  
Solas regarded Dorian with new found respect, the man played at being aloof, but when he decided to care about someone, he really went for it. And he was making some excellent points.

“She has already been staying with me, I will mention this to her as another reason to stay close. Right now she is warded in my room, so she is safe for the moment.”  
Dorian eyed Solas suspiciously, “Warded? You had already warded her in?”  
Solas shrugged, “She is not used to sleeping indoors and said she did not feel secure, she wanted extra protection against attacks.”  
Despite the seriousness of the situation, a smile tugged at the edges of Dorian’s lips, “And people say paranoia doesn’t have it’s uses. Her untrusting nature may have been what has saved her life so far.” He tapped his chin again, “Although if she was cursed here, maybe it’s not paranoia, but factual history for her. She has every reason to be mistrustful.”

Solas’s skin prickled as the full ramifications of that sank in. They didn’t know who it was that cursed Winter, therefore logically it could be anyone. Even one of the Inquisition. She did not know if it happened on mission or while she was here briefly between one mission and the next. Every unknown mage was a suspect. Even one of the healers. Not all were vouched for, some were refugees from the Templar and Mage war that claimed they were seeking asylum. There simply was not time or resources to investigate them all, the Inquisition just took them in on good faith. Had Winter gone to one when she was first hurt, they could have killed her right then. Solas pushed the thoughts away, now was not the time to dwell on the past, they needed to focus on the present. Although he did have a question, “Dorian, you have been with the Inquisition since before Haven’s fall, and are somewhat more familiar with Blood Magic, have you sensed anything?”

Dorian’s lips pulled down in a frown, his eyebrows sharpening, “I thought we had visited this once before. Just because I am from Tevinter does _not_ mean that I have experience with blood magic. I have never cast it. I did not surround myself with people who were the sort to cast it either. At the very least, they did no confide to me that they were maleficars.” He swallowed past the angry lump forming in his throat, “And if I had sensed something, don’t you think I would have done something before now? Brought it up? Told the Inquisitor and the rest of the Inner Circle? That is not the type of information you just sit on, especially given all the crazy shit that goes on around here, including the Inquisitor’s alliance with so many rebel mages.”

Solas had the grace to look mildly chastised, “You are right. I apologize. I just would have been remiss if I did not at least ask. Especially with so much at stake.”  
Some of of the bluster left Dorian, “You aren’t completely off-base. Blood Magic is practiced fairly regularly back home. Many publicly claim they would never, then behind closed doors it is another story entirely. With this information the stakes change, and we can not afford to leave any stone unturned.”   
Dorian glanced around before continuing, weary of defending himself from his Homeland, “So what is our next plan of action?”  
Solas turned toward the bookcases, “One of us should research more into the curse, and the other should research more into healing magics to try and counteract it. That way we can divide and conquer.”  
Dorian nodded, “Which do you want? I can tell you right now, as a ‘Death Mage’ as Winter called it, I am shit at healing spells. Since they tend to do the opposite of what I’m going for. But I will research until my fingers bleed if we need.”  
Solas shook his head, “That is not necessary. You try and locate everything you can on the curse, I will read up on different healing magics.”

A voice behind them startled them both, they were so engrossed in their conversation they did not even notice the slight elf mage approach them.   
Grand Enchanter Fiona was unassuming with her hands slipped in her sleeves, her face smooth, giving nothing of her thoughts away, but her voice carried weight, and left no room for argument, “I will help as well. And also, you may want to put one of the Tranquil on it. Back during the 5th Blight, the Ferelden Circle fell victim to a group of Blood Mages. Some of them were rendered Tranquil rather than executed, they may prove a valuable source of information not found in books.”

Solas and Dorian glanced at each other, neither was familiar with that bit of history. In Dorian’s case it was unlikely that the Circles of the South would want that information to reach Tevinter, and in Solas’ was still asleep then, but as far as anyone here knew he was just wandering around in a remote location. As mages, being around Tranquil made them both uneasy. But the Former Grand Enchanter had a point, they would be a firsthand resource. And the Tranquil had no emotions, so it was not like they would lie or be anything less than forthcoming.   
Fiona gave them both knowing, disapproving frowns, guessing their thoughts, “I will speak to them for you. I have been listening to the two of you for days now, and if your suspicions are correct, we all need to be involved in ferreting out the culprit and getting rid of this curse. If they cast it once, they could have cast it again, or at least will cast it again, and if we have a way to be rid of it, it will be that much easier with the next victim.”

Dorian and Solas nodded, before setting off toward the shelves.   
“And gentlemen?” Solas and Dorian each paused, turning their heads to show they were listening as Fiona continued, “I am also a Spirit Healer. When the time comes, if you have need of me, I would like to help. I can cast the spell, or work with another to cast it as well. At the very least add my strength to another, I am trained in such things. Or even when the young lady wakes up, if I could take a look at the curse first hand, if that would help. There is a chance that I will be able to heal it myself.”

Solas gave her a surprised look, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing up at how much of coincidence it was that Fiona would turn up and offer her services as a powerful Spirit Healer when he was just thinking that morning they needed to locate one. He smoothed his expression and nodded, “That is most appreciated Grand Enchanter”  
Fiona’s lips turned up slightly, “Just Fiona will do. As I’m sure you’ve heard, the Circles are no more. I am the Grand Enchanter no longer.”  
Solas regally nodded at her before continuing on to a bookshelf, picking up a tome. 

Fiona watched them go with a bemused expression. Whether Circle trained, Tevinter, or self-taught, it seemed all mages were the same. Vain as cats, the whole lot of them. It would have never occurred to either of them to seek help from the Circle mages in their research endeavors, or even that a fresh pair of eyes to work through what the curse would be beneficial. 

Speaking of cats she glanced down. Zelda sauntered from behind her robes and sat down, a self-satisfied air about her as she began licking her paw.  
Fiona nodded to the cat, speaking very softly, “Thank you my friend. You were right to come and get me. Those two needed help, whether they were willing to admit it or not.”  
Zelda ignored her in favor of continuing her bath, only her twitching ears belaying that she heard at all. She stood up, stretched, and froze. She crouched down, eyes intent, wiggled her hind quarters, before bounding away, seeming to chase something, presumably a mouse. Fiona watched her go warily, suddenly unsure about the little animal. She had seen it around the Keep, they all had. Cats were not an uncommon sight, the kitchen staff kept a couple around to keep rats and other vermin out of the food storages, but Zelda stood out. For one, she was the only one without a tail. Her unusual coloring also marked her as different. Then there was the tricks she played on Solas. Unbeknownst to him, her antics had been watched by the patrons of the library with much amusement. Nor was he the first person she had pestered, just the longest streak the others had seen. 

The cat had even made itself something of a companion to her, often coming to Fiona and cuddling in her lap as she read, on rare occasions sleeping at the foot of her bed. Fiona had no idea how she got into her room some nights, she would swear she always securely shut her door. And it always seemed to be a normal beast, if a little more on the mischievous side than the others of it’s kind, but this morning when it woke her up and all but dragged her to the library, she started doubting. There was something eldritch about the little animal. She abruptly shook her head, she had duties to perform, she did not have the time to dwell on whether the feline was natural or not. If it was something beyond a normal cat, it had made no moves to do any real harm that she could see. On the contrary, it seemed rather intent on taking care of this Winter scout, whoever she was. 

~~~~~~

It seemed Winter had just shut her eyes when she opened them, to find herself in the Fade. 

Now that she knew that her curse was affecting her Spirit and dreams, she glanced around with a critical eye at her surroundings. She frowned, they were a lot duller than normal. Unfocused. As if she was looking at them through slightly dirty, warped glass. How had she not noticed before? How had she missed this? Was it truly so gradual that it slipped completely under her nose? As she watched, the details seemed to muddle even more. She shook her head. It was like finding out what was wrong with her had both made her aware, taking away the wool from her perceptions, and seemed to speed up the process. She wrapped her arms around herself, she did not care for this dull and dingy aspect of the Fade. She missed her vivid dreams. She even missed her vivid visions. It was more unsettling than she would like to admit that she did not even realize the extent of it, how obvious it was.

She realized she had not had a dream vision in some time, and tried to remember the last one she did have. As she cocked her head to the side, she heard echoes. The sound seemed to be coming from a great distance.   
Someone was shouting, they were angry, and tasted of insanity. Even though she could tell they were screaming, the over exertion of their vocal cords evident, the voice was so faint she could barely make out the words, “…protect the freak?!….she wants and ruins…!….”   
 Winter shook her head and listened harder, trying to hear better, but the snippet was garbled, too far and then gone. She had no idea what that was, past or present or future, but it raised goosebumps on her arms. She rubbed them to try and warm up, glancing around. It struck her again, how had she not noticed how different everything was? It was murky. The colors were blunted. The ambient sounds were all wrong. Instead of the cheerful birdsong, gentle breezes ruffling leaves, and chattering of squirrels that usually permeated the air, it was silence punctuated by wind whistling through the trees. She hated what this place had become, wherever or whenever it was. Maybe the poor sleeping habits that were a side effect of the curse were blunting her edge, allowing things to slip past her that she never would at when she was at the top of her game, both mentally and physically. 

She vaguely recognized the trees and the layout. This forest was a common destination when she was asleep and not taken by visions. Usually it was much brighter, open and inviting. A place she delighted in exploring and playing in. But this time, she had no desire to gamble about. Winter decided to climb into the branches of a familiar looking tree and curl up against a trunk to wait it out until she could awaken. Tucking herself into as small a shape as she could manage, she shut her eyes, vainly trying to call visions to distract herself with, at the very least music. She tried to will something to happen, to change, but that rarely happened when she was healthy, she did not really expect it to work now. At least time moved differently here, she should not be asleep too long before waking up. But all that answered her attempts at summons was the menacing silence, so she waited.

~~~~~~~~~~

Now that they knew what they were looking for, research was yielding much better results. Solas had found some promising looking spells he would like to try. He wondered if he should consult with Fiona, since she was the expert on healing magics here. He thought back to earlier, how him and Dorian had decided to be more wary of other mages. But the Grand Enchanter…he stole a quick glance at her. She was reading a book by the window, brows furrowed in concentration, lips moving as she silently read along the page she was on. He doubted she would be the kind to cast a curse on a Scout. Most mages, especially the Circle ones, found Blood Magic distasteful. Her tone earlier when talking about the 5th Blight was proof enough of that. And why would she want to pick off members of the Inquisition? The Inquisitor had offered her a partnership when most would have just conscripted them, even the Inquisitor’s own advisors were privately angry with the Inquisitor’s decision. She had stood firm though, she wanted to give the mages a chance to prove they could be trusted outside of the Circles. When she conceded their points that measures needed to be taken against abominations they cooled, and now were pleasantly surprised to find the Mages steadfast allies who, in spite of not being used to autonomy, were learning to be more self-reliant. They were grateful for this chance and loyal to their cause. Each one had eagerly volunteered to help with the Breach when asked, they did not have to force or coherence any of them. 

In the end, the logic that Fiona would not do anything to harm the Inquisition’s efforts won out. She had more to lose than most by testing insidious spells on unsuspecting victims, and she seemed too honorable to do something so vile. Engineering new curses for magical warfare was not something he could honestly expect out of her. Especially since she was a healer by nature. Curses went against their magics, felt unnatural under their palms. No, the former Grand Enchanter was not their Maleficar. 

He was about to call out to Fiona when he realized how late the hour was by the position of the sun through the window behind her. He had gotten so wrapped up in his research he forgot to check on Winter midmorning. And now it appeared to be close to noon. He set his book aside and set off toward his room, suddenly anxious. He tried to keep his steps unhurried, but something in his gait must have given him away, because Dorian gave him a slight smirk as he passed, but for once held his tongue. 

He was halfway there when he remembered he needed to go to the Quartermaster. He had to exchange his shirt, or see about gathering the materials to mend it. He cursed under his breath and changed his direction. The walk was longer than he anticipated, and his thoughts returned to Winter once more. The puzzle of her. Where had she come from? And where had she been when she was off on her own? How did she learn so much? Which Dalish Clan did she even hale from? So much about her did not add up. She refused to tell him the name of her clan, claimed she did not know her lineage. Something about her made him homesick, long even more for days gone by. He supposed it did not matter, it was unlikely he would be able to trace her line back to any Elven clan he would be familiar with. So much of what the Dalish held as fact was wrong, their bloodlines would probably be just one more thing in their long list of inaccurate things. 

His thoughts turned toward her cryptic words the first night. When she was asking about his loneliness. How did she know? It was like she had looked directly through him and picked out one of the things he tried to keep hidden above all others. It sent another chill down his spine thinking about it still. It was a void she admitting to harboring herself. And since that first night, they had become friends. He had felt that chasm slowly filling as she lessened his feelings of isolation. It was both a relief and unsettling. At the moment he wasn’t sure which was worse.   
He was pondering what this meant for him when he had finally reached the Quartermaster, and for once luck was on his side. They were glad enough to exchange his plain linen tunic for another. Truthfully, the man looked relieved to have such an easy request. 

On his way back his rolled his sleeves back up midway up his forearms, the day was uncharacteristically warm for the mountains. His thoughts returned to Winter. It was astounding to him that one person could become so central to his life in such a short amount of time. Had it only been three days? Four? Yet he could not picture being around Skyhold without her. He felt a pang, what would happen in the time to come? Would they grow closer? He imagined that once she was healed she would not want to hang around the keep too long. Perhaps she would be gone immediately, or maybe she would exercise caution and wait until her strength was back up before setting out again. She liked being out in the wilderness, staying here was her nightmare. But she was not foolish. And if he was out on assignment with the Inquisitor, the likelihood of them seeing each other plummeted even more. 

She was elusive by nature, both with information and with people. His instincts and even she herself had told him that if she did not want to be found, she would not be. His hand wandered subconsciously to the hidden pouch under his shirt, fingers gently pressing on it to feel the hidden cloth swatch inside. It had been an impulse to cut it off and keep it. It was a part of her and he did not want to be parted with it, weird as it sounded. But now that he was turning over things in his head, maybe there were other uses as well. 

He was passing by Bull when the tall Qunari called out to him, Bull’s deep voice rousing him into the present, “Hey Solas, how goes the research?”  
Solas hid that he was startled, he gave the Bull a politely quizzical look, “Pardon?”  
Bull gave him a calculating one in response, “I asked how research was going. Seeing if you guys were any closer to curing Winter.”  
Solas raised a brow, “Why the curiosity? Winter is not one of your men.”  
Bull regarded him, thoughts hidden, “Doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to her. The little elf grew on me. She’s good people. And this magic shit, I can tell she doesn’t like it anymore than I do. I can’t imagine how being cursed and helpless would feel good”  
Solas lightly nodded, “Research is going well. We believe we know what the curse is now, and are well into figuring out a way to eradicate it.”  
He started to walk away before Bull could respond, but the last thing Bull said made him pause, “It was Winter herself who figured out the curse. She has thrown herself into magical research and familiarizing herself with magic itself.”  
Bull gave him an indiscernible look, “Is she now. Interesting.” He rolled his shoulders, “Maybe I’ll come up later and check on her. Give me an excuse to get out of the sun.”

Solas’s voice was curiously innocent, “And perhaps run into a certain Necromancer?”  
There was a faint gleam of respect in Bull’s eye, his lips twisted in a wry grin, “A fringe benefit.” He turned to go, pausing to call over his shoulder, “I’m not the only one interested in her wellbeing Solas. This curse has drawn a lot of attention with what it could mean. There are many who are all invested in her progress, and finding out who cursed her to begin with.” He ambled away, his walk casual in contrast to his tone.

Solas ignored the veiled warning and kept on, anxious again to get back to his room and to Winter. He found it curious that Bull would feel the need to warn him. They were not particularly close. But it was a warning perhaps he would heed. Why would Bull feel the need to warn him though? Surely no one thought he was the one who cursed Winter in the first place, as the one trying to help her that should eliminate him from the suspect list. When he first arrived here he remembered the feeling of everyone watching him, but at first he figured it was because he was an Elvish Apostate who had volunteered to join, before they had even recruited the mages. It was not openly hostile, but he could always feel it, simmering below the surface of everyone who was not of the Inner Circle, and honestly, even a few who were. He would not let this get to him. So far no one had even guessed at the truth or suspected it, he would just keep on as before. 

Something horrible occurred to him. What if Bull was warning him because someone was interested in recasting the curse? Would the Inquisition stoop so low, as to use Blood Magic on it’s enemies? He attempted to banish the thought. The Inquisitor would never allow it. She may not have been completely adverse to Blood Magic, but she was completely against the practice of using living sacrifices to cast it. No, he could imagine her reaction were someone to even suggest it to her. They would no doubt find themselves out of the Inquisition, if not put in the dungeon for observation. 

Finally he reached his quarters; he took a breath to steady his turbulent thoughts and reached out mentally to relax his wards. Once done he carefully opened the door and slipped into the room. It was well past noon now, his detour taking a lot longer than he anticipated. Winter was tangled up in his bed, still asleep. He paused a moment to take in the sight she presented. While resting she looked younger. The tension she carried around her eyes was smoothed away, the pain she held at the corners of her lips eased. Her hair was splayed upon the pillow around her head, as if she spent much of the morning tossing and turning, and her mouth was slightly open. He bit his lips to try and stifle the smile he felt forming, the soft laugh threatening to escape, but she had drooled in her sleep and it had crusted to the side of her mouth and down one cheek. Her limbs were flung out in every which way, and he had to wonder if it was even comfortable for her at the angle some of them seemed to be in. 

Even so, she looked so peaceful he considered letting her sleep for longer. But even as the thought crossed his mind, Winter jolted awake, presumably his slight noise had roused her, a knife seemingly materialized in her hand and held out defensively. The sleep cleared from her eyes almost immediately and she realized it was him. 

“Oh, morning Solas” she forced out around her yawn, her arms relaxing. She glanced at her hand and up at him, and a smiled curled her lips. “I guess we are more similar than we realized,” she tucked the knife back into her hidden sheath around her neck. He felt his own lips twitching in response to hers.   
Her grin turned sly, and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, “Although I didn’t tackle you and cut your throat, so congratulations, you out reacted the paranoid hermit.”  
Solas groaned, his smile vanishing, “Not this again”  
Winter turned toward him fully, her grin spreading, “Of course this again, did you think I would forget during a nap?”  
He opted for a tactic change, “It seems it was a well received nap. You throw yourself into sleep with much aplomb” He subtly wiped at his cheek.  
Winter gave him a quizzical look and reached up to her own face, feeling the crusted drool. Her cheeks reddened.  
“Well that’s the last time I sleep in your room.”  
He attempted to change the subject, distracting her would be a better tactic than arguing with her, “How was your rest?”  
Winter shrugged as she stretched, reaching out and grabbing her clothes. She started pulling on her leg wraps, “Boring. Now that I’m conscious of the fact that my Spirit is under attack, it was glaringly obvious in my dreams. They were very dull.”  
Solas kept his eyes on her face, determined not to get caught looking at her long legs, “Dull how?”  
Once she was done she started to get up, and Solas made a move to help her. Winter grabbed his hand and stood, and it was only after she was up that she realized she had allowed him to assist her without comment or resisting. Solas seemed to realize it as well because he gave her a small knowing smile but mercifully let the moment pass. Winter hastily pulled her hand out of his, and unconsciously rubbed it. Solas raised a brow and his grin turned into a smirk. Winter dropped her hands to her sides, balling them into fists. She barreled on with his question, not wanting to address the sudden elephant in the room, or why she was feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden, “Dull as in nothing happened. I was just there in an empty forest. A whole lot of silence. Just me and the wind. Not even birds or other animals or anything. Nothing to do but wait it out”

His brow wrinkled, this new information driving all else from his mind, “You were aware you were dreaming? As in, aware in your dream?”  
Winter delicately shrugged, as she started pulling on her chainmail tunic, “Of course.”  
“Have you always been aware in your dreams?”  
Something in his tone must have alerted her, because she paused within the tunic halfway into her chainmail, her voice was cautious from inside it and he wished he could see her face, “Yes, why? Isn’t everyone?”  
Solas folded his arms across his chest and leaned up against the wall, trying to feign that he wasn’t desperate for answers, “No, as a matter of fact, not everyone is aware they are dreaming. In actuality, only mages are aware they are in the Fade. And most people do not even remember visiting the Fade in their dreams, let alone their actual dreams themselves.”

Winter resumed slowly pulling her chainmail down, trying to buy some time to calm her suddenly racing heart. How was she supposed to know that regular people didn’t remember their dreams? Weren’t conscious in the Fade? It had never come up, and she had never thought to ask. Occasionally she heard the others talking about nightmares, but she was never invited into those conversations. In fact, most conversations had tended to come to a halt whenever someone in the Clan realized she was near, the same for the Inquisition. She never sought out conversations, about dreams or otherwise, so she had no way of knowing. She never talked about the things she Saw while there, because she never talked about her Sight. Or herself really. This was bad. And it was too late to back track. Solas would never let this drop. Maybe it wouldn’t be an issue. Could she shrug it off? They were friends, just because she was a little different wasn’t too big of a deal, right? She forced her features into a nonchalant expression as she finally popped her head out of the neck hole, “Huh, weird. Are you sure?”

Solas was looking at her with a serene expression on his face, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed in a casual stance. Winter wasn’t fooled one bit, his eyes were burning with questions; but she had to give him points for trying at some restraint.   
“I am most sure.”  
After putting on the cloth over tunic she began to resheath her knives, her tone light, “Well that’s certainly a mystery for the ages.”  
“Winter,” His tone was heavy.  
“Solas”, She mimicked his voice poorly.  
“Are you sure you are not a mage? It would make sense, the fear of magic, something you can not control that randomly spurts out at inopportune moments. And you could have beaten it down somehow. Your will is, ah, very strong. It is not an impossible feat. Unlikely maybe, but not impossible.”

Winter gave him a flat look, “Solas, I swear to you on everything I hold most dear in the world, all two things, that I do not have magic. Never have, never did. I assure you, if I did have magic, I would tell people. My life would have been a whole lot easier.” She quirked her lips to the side, pondering if that statement would ring true, if she had magic would she have still had the Sight? Having both would suck. But if she had magic over Sight, she would have been normal and things would have been vastly different. Well a normal mage at least. For one she would not have spooked everyone to the point where she was an outcast. Would have never known about the slave markings. Would have never seen anyone betraying her, she would have just been a regular Dalish Elf. Would have never been banished. She would have been treated like the Inquisitor was, like a blessing rather than a burden. People would not have feared her. She shook her head, it was pointless to think about what could have been, and besides, Solas was talking. She needed to pay attention.   
He raised a brow, “Easier? Strange, most people claim that not having magic would make their lives easier. You are the first to claim otherwise.”  
She shot him an annoyed look, purposely taking longer with her daggers than needed, “Well I’m not most people”  
Solas snorted, “That is glaringly obvious.”

She finally stood up straight and put her hands on her hips, “Is this going to be a problem? I’m not a mage. I am aware in my dreams, so what. I can’t be the first nonmagical person to do this. Perhaps I am just the first you have met.”  
Solas’s expression spoke volumes of how unlikely that was, his voice mildly sarcastic “or heard of?”  
“Precisely. It’s not that unusual. You yourself said you were a wandering apostate, how many people could you have encountered? How many people would you have spoken to about dreams and the Veil and the Fade? Up until lately, mages in the wild were pretty uncommon. People willing to talk to a stranger carrying a staff in the wild were even more uncommon. You can’t have talked to many people about this”

“That does not negate the fact that this is a big deal. I was not Circle trained, but I am knowledgeable and skilled. This is my area of expertise, I would know if there were others.”  
He stopped leaning against the wall and tilted his head as he looked at her, “Have you always been this way?”  
She bit her lip, Solas was between her and the door, not to mention she was still injured. Even if she got by him, she wouldn’t get far before he would catch up again. Damn him and his working legs. Damn whoever did this to hers to put her in this uncomfortable situation.   
She folded her arms across her chest, lightly grasping the grips of her daggers in her arm guards, mostly for comfort.   
She did nothing to try and conceal the annoyance from her tone, “Yes, I have always been this way.”  
“And no one has ever noticed? Suspected? Tested your ability? Have you met any spirits in the Fade? Demons?” A shadow passed over his face, “Another person?”  
“No, no one has ever noticed or suspected. I’ve never tested this ‘ability’ as you call it. It just simply is. No, I do not meet other beings in my dreams.”  
“Can you control them?”  
“Other beings? No, no one ever does what I want them to. For instance, we are still talking about this.”  
“Winter” He used that tone again.   
Winter gave a frustrated sigh, “No, I am just aware. I can’t influence anything in them.” At least she was going to downplay this, and her control over her dreams so was minimal she did not think it warranted mentioning anyway. Not that she could mention that she was usually only able to call visions, sometimes able to direct their focus, she liked Solas, but she didn’t think she would ever get to a point where she trusted another with her secret. He was too curious about her regular dreams, she could only imagine what he would be like if he found out about her Visions.

Solas ran a hand over his head, he had the look of a man who just had his foundations rocked. Winter pulled her lips in, and picked up her crutches.

Solas watched her with critical eyes. Maybe there was a possibility she was just a really rare individual who had no magic but was conscious in her dreams, but his instincts clamored against that theory. There was something she was not telling him, he suspected it before, but this revelation catapulted it from ‘suspicions’ to ‘reality’.  
“Is there anything else you are keeping to yourself?”  
Winter gave him a bright, toothy smile, her eyebrows waggling, “Lots of things.”  
He narrowed his eyes, determined not to be charmed, “Any other special abilities?”

Winter huffed, rolling her eyes, “I would not call this a special ability. I can’t do anything with it, and if it leads to conversations like this, there is nothing special about it, unless it’s special to be a pain in the ass and to put me under scrutiny. So I’m aware in my dreams, so what? You can alter reality. Of the two of us, that is weirder. Is this so far fetched? Dwarfs don’t even dream at all, that’s not considered unusual? And Qunari, they claim they don’t dream as humans and elves do, yet they have mages. How? Is it so impossible for the opposite to be true? If someone can wield magic and not dream, then it stands to reason that someone can dream and not magic.”

“I suppose it could be…” She had a point, but Solas wasn’t willing to concede defeat just yet, he still doubted this was an insignificant fact about her. He gave her a sharp look, “how do you know Qunari do not dream as humans and elves?”

Winter rolled her eyes again, “Are we really going to have to go through this every time I say something intelligent that you think there’s no way I should know? Because I think I’m going to start getting offended at the insinuation that I’m ignorant. I know Qunari don’t dream like humans and elves because I'm around when they have conversations about it. As in the Circle mages, not Qunari. I’ve never been around Qunari, besides Bull. I avoid them, the mages, not the Qunari, but sometimes I can’t. Avoid mages that is. It’s easy to avoid Qunari, seeing as how I will never travel to their lands and they don’t come here. If they were around I probably would avoid them too. Anyway. I catch snippets. I hear things. A couple of mages were having a heated discussion about it one day in the courtyard near one of my hiding spots, one was pro and one was against. The one who was against them dreaming made some valid points, I was persuaded.” She swallowed, wondering how long this excuse would work. She was also rambling, her nerves on edge. Solas’s face told her this excuse was wearing thin. Soon he might not even believe her. It was all he was going to get though. Not like she could tell him the alternative. 

Solas worked his jaw, his instincts were telling him he was not getting the full story, but he would not accuse Winter of lying or hiding anything. Perhaps in time she would reveal the truth herself, as she had with this dreaming thing. He had a feeling that would not go over well, accusing her of anything. She was just surprisingly well versed in a lot of random topics, things that no one exiled into the forests would have any way of knowing.   
He bit his cheek, what if she met a Spirit of Wisdom in the Fade and spoke to it? She said she did not meet others there, but maybe at one point she did, and it shared it’s knowledge with her. He would not put it past her. She just said she did not meet beings in the Fade, not that she never did. He was wising up to her evasive tricks, but looking at her face, now was not the time to push her. 

Winter was definitely the type to use loopholes in questions. She had even admitted as much herself. 

He did opt to drop the subject for the time being. Now that he knew she _did_ dream, visiting her in the Fade became a top priority again.

Finally Winter was ready, having finished putting herself together while Solas was thinking. She had braided all her hair today, for once none of it was covering her face. The gesture surprisingly touched him, it was a subtle way to say she was not going to hide. She indicated she was ready, so he turned and held the door for her as she crutched through. 

Winter breathed a sigh of relief that Solas had dropped the dreaming thing. She did not to get into it again. She felt uneasy about lying to him and evading his questions, and with a jolt realized it was guilt. What the hell? Why would she feel guilty? She had done nothing wrong. They were friends, there was no reason for her to tell him everything. Besides, she was sure there were things he was not telling her. Fate would not saddle her with someone ordinary, of that she was certain. He wasn’t offering full disclosure, she should not have to either. 

The silence eventually became too much for Winter, “So, how was morning research? Any closer to finding a spell to reverse this?”  
Solas nodded, “Actually yes. The former Grand Enchanter has offered to help as well. She is a powerful Spirit Healer, so the hope is that she will be able to cure you. If not, I have another theory that may work. But we will cross that bridge when we get there, it is strictly a last ditch effort.”  
Winter swallowed, “The Grand Enchanter has taken an interest in this?” Her voice was a touch on the squeaky side.  
“Yes, she was mildly chastising that we did not include her sooner, with her extensive knowledge in this area.”  
She sighed, “Well if it gets me better sooner, not like I’m going to turn down the help. All this attention….I don’t like it. It’s too much. I’m just one lowly Scout. I should not be getting this much notoriety.”  
“Well the Grand Ench-Fiona and Dorian made some good points this morning. This could be a trial run of this curse. What if someone is waiting to see how it affects you before casting it on more people? Waiting to mass produce it? Or sell it to the highest bidder? There are plenty of people out there who would pay any price for a guaranteed slow death of their enemies.”  
Winter’s tone was dry, “Oh great, more things for me to worry about. The list was dwindling down. I was worried I might actually have a day where I did not have panicky thoughts about the future.”

“Not comforting theories. Which is why Dorian and I have decided now, more than every, it is vitally important that you stay close to either me or him until this is sorted out. What if the person who cast this is still here, waiting to get you alone to finish the job? Or examine the curse? So, you must stay with me.”  
Winter ignored the butterflies that elicited, “Are you sure this Fiona is trustworthy then?”  
Solas shrugged, “She is honorable. And I have thought on it. Of all the people here, she would have more than most to lose if she was caught, and very little to gain. She would be biting the hand that fed her.”  
Winter wasn’t convinced, “What if she is doing this as a way to prove her worth to the Inquisition?”  
Solas remained firm on his stance, “Then she would have picked one of it’s enemies, not one of it’s Scouts to do this to. All this would prove is that she is willing to kill her own men to get results, and that is not an attitude the Inquisitor takes kindly upon.”  
“Ok, if you trust her, I will trust her.”

They finally reached the door to the library. Solas paused and looked at Winter, his face concerned, “Are you ready? I have a feeling that today is going to bring a lot of changes. Might possibly even bring a cure for you. There will be many people around, and probably most will need to touch you at one point or another, will you be able to handle that?”

To her horror, Winter’s eyes filled with tears at how thoughtful he was being. No one ever took her feelings into account. Or even acknowledged that she had feelings. He had even noticed she did not like to be touched. She looked away, attempting to regain her composure. Unfortunately, of course he noticed.   
He gently reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, and Winter realized she did not mind it when he touched her. She kept her face turned away, but placed her hand on top of his and squeezed slightly, “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Just grin and bear it. Be over before I realize it. And if they can cure me, I’ll let them touch me. Hell, I’ll let them hug me.” She faced him again and arranged her features into stoney indifference, nodding that she was ready and releasing his hand. Solas squeezed her shoulder once more before letting his hand drop. Once again he marveled at her determination and bravery. Whatever she was, she was fearless.

A nagging in the back of his brain persisted, and it was only once they were in the library and greeted by Dorian and Fiona that Solas realized she had never answered him when he had asked if she had any other special abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> So sorry it took forever, but I can't stress enough how busy I have been.


	8. And I got down-hearted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it's been awhile but I can explain: I've been very busy. People won't stop dying and pulling me in a million different directions. It's exhausting and time consuming. 
> 
>  
> 
> This one did not come easily, I had to fight for it every step of the way.

This day started out so good. She had solved the curse. A cure was in sight. She had finally been able to sleep. But then she had accidentally revealed her cognizant dreams to Solas, and now walking into the library, with everyone turning to look at her, set her teeth on edge. She wilted a moment, then squared her shoulders. She made sure her features were as frosty as her earned nickname. Maybe amping up her intimidation factor would keep most of them at bay. When her gaze shifted to Dorian her eyes took on an evil glint and she felt her face thaw a touch. But with Fiona next to him and the two of them seemingly deep in conversation she checked her urge to tease him. While Solas seemed confident that this Fiona was okay, Winter wasn’t so quick to trust. Especially another elf. She attempted to veer off to go sit at her usual table, but Solas shook his head, indicating that she should go with him to approach the pair of mages. Winter gritted her teeth and nodded. 

She attempted to ooze confidence, but it was a lot harder in crutches than one would think. As they approached the two mages, their conversation dwindled and they turned to look at the pair of them. Winter struggled to keep her icy mask in place. This was for her own good so she was going to remain neutral and not retreat, no matter how much her gut was telling her to. Dorian was the first to break the silence.

“Ah Winter, how nice of you to finally join us.”  
Winter’s nose twitched at the insinuation that she was lounging about, letting the others do the legwork while she slept.  
“Well I figured I earned a reprieve, what with being the only one able to figure out the curse in the first place. You know, in spite of having no magical experience. It takes a lot out of you learning the basics of magic and solving complex magical puzzles in one night, but _someone_ had to do it.”  
Winter’s eyes widened a fraction when she heard Solas chuckle, and she felt the ice on her expression begin to melt, her own mouth attempting to grin against her will.  
Dorian was a good sport and his lips turned up in a smile, “Good, there’s your fire. I was afraid you’d be haughty all day. Now that that is out of the way, maybe we can start the next step. Fiona here,” he indicated the slight elf mage at his side with a respectful wave of his hand, “is a very accomplished healer. She has generously offered to take a look at your leg and to heal it.”

Solas raised a brow, “So soon? We just enlisted her aid this morning. Did you discover a certain spell that would prove useful so fast? This curse is an altered form of the original, I doubt a regular, unmodified healing spell will prove very effective.”  
Fiona slipped her hands into her sleeves, pressing her mouth into a hard line, eyebrows drawn. Winter refrained from rolling her eyes, it seemed like all mages were products of pride, and they did not like their skill called into question. 

She interjected before this could escalate, her tone was unenthused, “Okay, so let’s get this over with then. Where do you need me.”  
Fiona focused her attention solely on Winter and for the first time Winter felt more at ease about all of this. The older mage’s gaze was level, her manner serene, and Winter was surprised to find herself responding to the confidence the older woman displayed, the soothing aura that seemed to surround her. She was not concerned, so there was no reason for Winter to be concerned, right? She nodded slowly as if Fiona had said something only she could hear. “Let’s get started.”

“If you would come this way,” Fiona’s voice was mellow and smooth, with it’s hint of an accent, very pleasant. It was the sort of voice that others would quiet down to listen to. It wasn’t loud, but it carried a lot of weight. Each of her movements was careful, measured, none of them wasted. Winter found herself wondering at the older mages origins. She had kept her distance from her, as was her policy with both mages and elves, but something about the woman piqued her curiosity now that she had gotten close enough to take a look. When would she get another chance to be this close to so many mages? If Solas was right and knowledge was power/eliminated fear, she needed to seize this opportunity. She wandered closer still, hoping to trigger a vision, but was met with silence. 

She pulled her lips in, it seemed she was getting weaker at a much quicker rate the closer they got to a cure. Maybe the curse had started the process of waking up? The thought chilled her blood. She just hoped they were able to heal her before she succumbed to the curse. Her lips curled in a sardonic smile, wouldn’t that be a twist of irony? Here she was convinced she had a big destiny, that she would be intricate to the world’s fate in some way, and she could easily be killed by some rogue mage’s curse, likely for something as stupid as being in wrong place at the wrong time. She wondered if somehow another Seer would replace her. She had never Seen another, but she had to have been born into this Age for a reason, would the universe replace her for it’s purpose? Or would it be too late and the future would play out as it did? And did she care or did it matter? 

The Inquisition was the first time she had ever actively gotten involved with attempting to help the future, and everything she did was so minuscule and subtle, was it even making much of a difference? She found that she liked the thought that she didn’t matter even less than she liked being saddled with this “gift”. At least if she was important in some way, all the suffering would be for a reason. Some cosmic plan as to why her life was shit. For why she couldn’t be around most people, or large crowds. Why most instinctively avoided her. Why she was always alone. Why she had to see so many of the world’s horrors play out in her mind. The thought that it could be all for nothing made her want to retch, scream and lash out. She focused back on the present, not wanting to upset herself any more than she already was. Her nerves were already jittery about this healing process, she didn’t need to pile on more anxiety. 

Fiona lead her to one of the longer benches, indicating Winter to have a seat. The table had been moved away a bit, to allow for people to stand on either side. Winter herself sat down and leaned against the wall, stretching her injured leg along the bench, using the other to balance on the floor. Once she was comfortable, Fiona held her hands out for her crutches, clearly intending to lean them against the wall that was out of reach to the pale elf, but Winter shook her head, instead tucking them under the bench. She wanted them within reach if she suddenly needed to get up and get lost fast. Or bludgeon someone. She had a feeling this healing process was going to make her want to bludgeon someone.

Once settled she nodded that she was ready, then in an attempt to not focus on what was going on, looked upward. She kept her face indifferent when she realized Lelianna was watching from the Roost. She slowly looked back down and feigned interest in what Solas, Dorian, and Fiona were discussing. Why would the Nightingale be watching them? Was this situation really so unusual? It seemed the only advisor who wasn’t interested in her was Josephine; which was a shame because out of the three she would be the one Winter would probably feel the most at ease with. She had an aversion to killing and had a gift for talking to people without being threatening. Winter knew she was not to be underestimated, and would probably be the best at ferreting out the truth, but at least she wouldn’t worry about Josephine pulling a blade on her like she did with the other two. They had a vaguely threatening air about them, and Winter didn’t like being the object of attention while she couldn’t properly defend herself.

She remembered her meeting with Cullen. He was really interested in her progress, she supposed it natural that Lelianna would be as well. She just hoped that they didn’t dig too much in her background, because then her ruse would be up. They would realize that she didn't officially join and wonder at her origins. She did not want any more people taking too close of a look at her. She bit her bottom lip, wasn’t today the day that the Inquisitor’s message came? Soon, she hoped, the attention would be forced off of her onto a much more pressing issue for the advisors. They would be much more interested in what the Wardens were doing than the progress of one little Scout.

She shifted her attention for real on the trio of mages. Solas was on one side of the bench, Fiona and Dorian on the other. Stuck in the middle, Winter felt crowded and inconsequential, which was irksome in itself. She deserved an equal voice in this discussion, as it was her leg and health in question. While she didn’t fully understand their conversation, at least it was not so heated anymore. She could tell Solas was annoyed by the tightness around his eyes, but she doubted the others did. He appeared calm, his voice even. Fiona looked calm as well, but her eyes were blazing, and her mouth was set in a slight frown. Dorian was the most obviously agitated. He kept crossing his arms angrily, then uncrossing them to use his hands to punctuate his words, before crossing them again. Winter had had enough. One way or another, she needed to be healed and she wanted to at least try now while Fiona was willing and focused.

“Stop” The three ignored her, too focused on their own bickering to take notice of anything else.  
“Hey, mages!” she waved her arms a bit. When that didn’t work she reached under the bench and pulled out a crutch, mildly surprised she needed to wallop someone already with one. She raised it and waved it around, pulling back to take a swing, when Solas quickly reached out and put a hand on it, “Winter, what are you doing?”

“Oh good, now that I have your attention, maybe the three of you will listen. I want Fiona to try. Maybe you two could help her. But I can’t take this anymore. Her speciality is healing, I want to give it a go. She can stop immediately if something happens. This inaction is driving me insane. The curse is driving me insane. I have to do _something_. I’m getting worse every day. I don’t want to be dead before you think we should try.”  
Solas’s mouth thinned, his disproval clear on his face, but he nodded, “It is your decision in the end. I just do not see why we can not wait one more day to do some research before acting.”  
Dorian interjected, “We already know most of the facts! We don’t need to wait!” He ticked them off his fingers, “We know what the curse is; we know how it was altered; we know what it’s doing; and we know it’s getting worse. What more information could more research do?! We are prepared!”  
Solas gritted his teeth, “And I told you, we should look more into different ways curses have been altered in the past, to see if there is something hidden in getting rid of Winter’s! What if there’s something nasty waiting in there for someone who tries to remove it?”  
Fiona interjected, “We have already said that we are three very powerful and skilled mages. I am adept at healing magic, with you two being magical powerhouses to lend aid if I need it, we can accomplish this.”

Solas opened his mouth but Winter interrupted, “And I have already said yes. I’m ready. Solas, _we have to try_. I told you, I’m getting worse. We have to do something.” She held his gaze, her own level and serious. “Solas, I want to do this.”  
He flexed his jaw, but he was the first to look away, “Okay. If this is what you want, we will proceed.”  
Fiona’s face was unreadable, but Dorian was looking nonplussed, although struggling to hide it. She met his gaze, her own face warning him against commenting.  
Winter turned to Fiona, “Will this bench be enough? Should we go somewhere more ….magically?”  
For the first time since meeting her, Fiona’s lips turned upward. She shook her head, “No, this bench is fine. You just need to relax and let us work.” She crouched down by her leg, and put out her hands. Winter grit her teeth and averted her eyes, glancing up since she didn’t want to see Solas and Dorian as well. She met Lelianna’s interested look. That was not any better. She just closed her eyes, wanting to block them all out. She felt Fiona’s magic slowly creep into her ankle, and heard a flurry of activity. 

Her eyes flew open, and she looked skyward again. A bird had just arrived and Lelianna was scanning the note, the only sign that she was in distress was the tightening of her fingers along the edge of it, her brows getting lower and lower. She must have reached the end of the letter because she stilled before snapping into action. She quickly strode away, her steps long and with purpose. One look at her face and anyone in her path moved away. Winter watched, and when she disappeared down the first set of stairs listened to her solid footsteps. When she appeared again she did not even spare the foursome a second glance, instead making a beeline for the next set of stairs, and then heading straight to Cullen’s office from Solas’s haunt. 

Winter let out a breath of relief. Now the Nightingale was sufficiently distracted, and the rest of the people in the tower were speculating about her quick retreat, and for the most part ignoring Winter and the three mages as well. She wasn’t a spectacle anymore. She turned her gaze back down to Fiona. And felt the first stirring of unease at the frown on Fiona’s face. She could still feel her magic gently probing around the edges of what she assumed was the curse, it only felt like a semi-solid mass in her ankle. And besides a steady ache, didn’t feel like much else. She didn’t want to say something and break the older mage’s concentration. 

Fiona bit the inside of her cheek and clenched her teeth in determination, finally touching the curse with her magic. Collectively Dorian, her, and Solas held their breath, this was something none of the three had ever done before. For a heartbeat nothing happened, then the inky shadow of the curse latched onto Fiona’s magic and attempted to suck it in. She gasped and yanked her hands away, meeting Winter’s worried gaze. Solas and Dorian looked just as concerned. Fiona forced her expression into one of calm and stuck her hands back out. When neither of the other two mages stopped her, she continued. She clenched her fists and drew a shaky breath, reaching out again and laying her hands directly on Winter’s leg wraps, around her ankle. The pale elf still hadn’t made a sound, despite her obvious discomfort, and Fiona was grateful she was a good patient throughout this process. 

When Fiona grabbed her ankle, Winter got her first, brief flash of a vision about the former Grand Enchanter. She saw her handing off a baby to someone, begging them to care for it. It was over before Winter could get a good look at anything, the image flickering before sizzling out behind her eyes. She pulled in her lips, fighting down the panic at how weak she was becoming. She felt Fiona easing her magic into her leg again.

Fiona went infinitely slow, as if she was stalking the black shadow. It’s sudden aggression towards her had startled her, and she was worried about what it might do. When she had it surrounded with the soft blue of her magic, she closed in again on all sides. Dorian and Solas both placed a hand on each of her shoulders, their mana at the ready should she have need. When the shadow latched onto her magic again she bit her lip and flooded it with power. The curse swelled, and Dorian and Solas gave her their strength. The black shadow convulsed, sinking in on itself, and the three stopped breathing, afraid to move, before it exploded outward and swarmed down to Winter’s foot and up her leg to her knee, and latching onto Fiona’s magic, using it to spread. Fiona yanked away again, physically moving her hands behind her back, the last tendrils of the curse letting go and shifting back under Winter’s skin. Fiona’s breath was in ragged gasps, and Solas and Dorian were breathing deeply as well. 

Winter herself was wide eyed, she had remained still the whole time, her fear locking her into place. At first glance she seemed unaffected, but a closer look showed that her knuckles were white where they were gripping the bench under her, the wood actually creaking with strain, her pale skin even paler in horror. Her eyes were riveted on her leg, as if she could see the darkness that had spread to her knee. But her appendage still looked innocently benign. She could feel it there though, swirling angrily under her skin, hungry for more, but it had stopped spreading. 

Dorian looked flabbergasted, for once at a loss for words. His eyes darting to her leg, then to Fiona, and back. Fiona, for her part, was looking at her hands, flipping them back and forth for any sign that the curse had stuck to her palms, inflicting her. Solas was pacing, his body language angry. He was not at loss for words.  
“I told you. I warned you that something like this could happen. We needed more time, we needed more information, we needed to be better _prepared_. But you all rushed in, like children! Why you could not wait just a mere couple hours more! Why you…” He trailed off when he looked at Winter’s face. The terror there were so great it had shattered her careful mask, her pupils were blown, making her light eyes appear black. Her breathing became erratic and she looked like she was on the verge of a full panic attack.

He immediately went to her side, pulling a chair close, and attempted to take her hand. He frowned when he met resistance and saw how tightly she had the bench clenched in her grasp. He gently pried her fingers loose, cradling her hand his two. He was not surprised to feel that hers were rough, heavily calloused from long years of using weapons. The scars that stood out in sharp relief in the soft veilfire were nearly invisible in the full light, but his fingertips quickly memorized their topography as he gently began to rub her hand with his, speaking softly, “Winter, it’s okay. This is just a minor setback. We can reverse this. We can fix it. I already have a plan, a way to do it. It will just take some time. A few short days.”

He kept talking softly about random things, he was currently telling Winter about some thing or another he had learned in the Fade, just talking to fill the silence and distracting her with his voice. Dorian seized Fiona’s arm and pulled her away from the other two elves. Winter was a wild card, and while right now she was clearly incapacitated, she would not remain so for long, and as someone who was instrumental in causing her episode, he didn’t think Fiona would be safe within reach of Winter’s arms. Clearly the older mage cared a great deal about the Scout, Solas could handle this. He also didn’t think either would appreciate anyone else being privy to this private moment. Well Winter wouldn’t want anyone to see her vulnerable at least. This was a side of Solas he hadn’t considered, or even expected. 

Dorian turned his attention back to Fiona, who was still staring at her hands fear. Dorian moved in front of her line of sight. He crouched down a little so their faces were on the same level and forced Fiona to focus her attention on him. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, and he wasn’t 100% certain she was even seeing him.  
“Fiona, you’re fine. You’re safe. The curse did not attach itself to you. Look, your hands are clear. I will check them myself” He clasped hers in his, and filled them with magic, they glowed with unblemished light, “See? Nothing. If the shadow had transferred, we would see it.”

She finally really looked at him, “I have never seen the like. The probing didn't affect it, so I thought it would be okay. But the healing magic” she gulped, “The healing magic fed it! It tried to pull mine into it! I could feel it.” Her gaze went stark, her voice dropping and shakey, “It’s evil. Whatever it is, it feeds on life. On magic. On healing, specifically healing magic. I suspect the only reason it has not devoured Winter is that she has no magic in which to feed it. This curse….it was designed to consume a mage. It is a mage killer.” Her voice had started out wobbling, but grew stronger the longer she talked. Her next sentence was a whisper, “It almost got me.” Dorian was staring at her in disbelief. 

Fiona clutched Dorian’s hands back, as if he wasn’t already riveted to what she was saying, “I do not know why it was cast on her, but it had to be a mistake. Or done by someone who thought she was a mage. It’s likely it moves at a rate proportionate to the person’s magic. A powerful mage will die within a matter of hours, days at the longest. A weak mage may linger for weeks before succumbing.”

Dorian swallowed heavily, the weight of Fiona’s words hitting him like a physical blow. He glanced over at Winter again, her breathing was slowing and she was starting to relax somewhat. At least she didn’t look like she would snap if you attempted to move her. He turned his attention back to Fiona, “How certain are you?”

Fiona’s eyes sparked, but it sizzled. What she had found out was a horrible revelation, she didn’t want to believe it either. “Very certain. When it latched on, I got a sense for it. It was hungry, so hungry.” She had pulled her hands out of Dorians, and began to rub them together subconsciously, “She is beyond my help. I do not know how to proceed from here to aid her.”

Dorian’s shoulders slumped, unsure on what to do next. He glanced at Winter and Solas again, “Let’s give them some time to themselves. Would you accompany me to the kitchens? We can get some wine and something to eat, then bring it back to those two. I daresay that Winter will need something to eat once she comes out of her comatose state. And some distance will do us all some good. Let us all calm down and process about what just happened.” Fiona nodded, and let him lead her down the stairs and out of the library. Something on their faces must have warned off anyone from talking to them, because Varric opened his mouth, took one look at their expressions, and shut it again. He folded his arms across his chest and watched them shuffle away, subtly leaning against each other for comfort. He glanced upward, as if he could see through the stone. Something had happened, and it clearly wasn’t something good. He frowned, considering if he should go and check on Winter. He was certain whatever it was, it had something to do with her. And since Dorian and Fiona were both mages, it was probably about something mage-y. He would wait. 

Back in the library, the other patrons, the ones who had stayed after Lelianna stalked out, were keeping their distance from Winter and Solas. They had seen what had happened with Fiona, and were scared, now more than ever. Winter’s erratic behavior had spooked them before, the other Scouts had spread tales of her prowess in battle, and now this curse that might be able to spread. Only the tranquil seemed not to care, but as they were unable to experience fear, it wasn’t unusual. 

Winter was frozen in an internal conflict. Her muscles had locked into place, and she was trying very hard not to go into full blown panic. She heard a roaring in her ears, drowning out all other sound. The long moments since Fiona had attempted to heal her felt like years, the minutes stretching longer than they had any right to be. She had trusted someone to use magic on her, with disastrous results. She had felt the curse spread, had felt it extend up her leg, intertwining itself will her muscles and tendons, infecting her blood, searching the rest of her body for something. Finding nothing, she felt the shadows return to her limb, gathering and waiting for another opportunity. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she hoped one of the mages would have an idea. Her instincts were screaming for action, but she had no actions to take. She was helpless. So she froze, fear immobilizing her. Finally, after time untold, she became aware of something outside of herself. The roaring in her ears receded, and she realized someone was talking to her.

She blinked, then blinked again. Her eyes were dry, but her vision was coming back to the present, she was starting to notice things around her. Someone was holding her hand, and very gently rubbing it. She blinked for a third time and shifted her gaze. It was Solas. Solas was holding her hand. Tenderly, and gently talking to her. About what she couldn’t say, but his voice was very soothing; low and calm. It slowed her racing heart. She could see the worry etched into the lines of his face. He was looking down at their hands, rubbing across her knuckles with care, tracing the pattern of scars marring her flesh as if they were telling him an intricate story. 

She twitched her fingers on the hand Solas wasn’t holding, not wanting to move too suddenly. Her digits were aching from gripping the bench for so long. She slowly relaxed her muscles, they had been locked for too much time; it took some willpower to get them to bend to her will. She slumped back, finally released. She weakly squeezed Solas’s hand with hers. He stopped mid-sentence and his head shot up, “Winter” his voice was so relieved she couldn’t help but smile weakly, “Solas.” Her own voice was hoarse.

He moved forward, and cupped her cheek in his hand. Her skin was cool to the touch, and startling soft under his palm, “Are you okay?” He checked both of her pupils, before actually looking into her eyes.  
She dimly realized Solas’s touch was a comfort but was too exhausted to explore this strange new part of herself. She didn’t have the emotional capacity to analyze what she saw in his gaze either, so she reverted back to her barbs.  
“What a ridiculous question, of course I’m not okay.”  
His lips twitched in spite of the serious situation, “Good point. Are you done doing your impression of a statue?”  
Winter shivered at how casually close that came to her second greatest fear, sharing Eleni’s fate. “I guess I am. I don’t think I’ll be okay for awhile, but I can tell you I’m no longer in danger of freaking out. Again. Mostly.” She closed her eyes and slumped her head back, where it thudded gently against the wall, “So what happened?”

Solas reluctantly dropped the hand cupping her cheek, regretting the distance between them. But she shyly reached out with one of her hers, grasping one of his. He squeezed it back, trying not to use too much pressure, glad she was no longer comatose. 

Winter surprised herself by reaching for Solas, but after the scare she just had, she needed the comfort, needed to feel something outside of herself. She was too aware of her body. It didn’t even matter that he was a mage, and possessed magic, which she was seriously pissed at right now. If magic had a face she would definitely punch it. Yet somehow that fact about him had become inconsequential to her, eclipsed by the fact that he is just _Solas_ to her now. A trusted friend. Someone she cares about.

Solas idly began tracing her knuckles with his fingers again. “Well, I am not 100% certain. It would appear that attempting to heal the curse, actually woke it up. Remember before how I said it seemed like it was waiting for something? Well I think this was it. I will need to consult with Fiona more on the subject to get her observations, and Dorian, but it looks like healing magic is the trigger.”  
“Well fuck”  
Solas looked up at her, startled at her foul language. Although he supposed he shouldn’t be, she was not a high bred elf, made no secret of her humble origins, and if there was ever a situation that warranted that word, this was most certainly it.  
Winter opened her eyes, the worry darkening the lilac of her irises to a deep purple, “What do we do know?” She gulped, apprehension darting across her features, “Amputation?”

Solas chewed his cheek, thinking. “No, I do not think we are quite there yet. Remember before when I said I had another idea? Well I think it will work. This curse, it’s powerful. More than the three of us could manage, which leads me to believe the caster used multiple sacrifices. But that is an issue we can address later.”  
Winter waved her free hand impatiently, “And are you going to get to the part that tells me what your plan is? I’m not interested right now in hearing about how scary and twisted and determined to kill me the mage is that cast this on me.”

“Yes Solas, please enlighten us all.” Solas turned and Winter looked past him, Dorian and Fiona were back. Solas noticed both their color was a bit better, and Fiona’s calm facade was back in place, her hands clasped in her sleeves once more. But her eyes still held a hint of panic, and her gaze kept darting to Winter and away nervously. Dorian was bristling, but that was not out of the ordinary. He was easily ruffled. He seemed to be carrying something, which on closer inspection turned out to be a pail with some food stuffs in it. 

Solas was tempted to give a sharp retort, but Winter’s hand tightened on his. He swallowed his comment, he didn’t want to start an argument when she was still so frazzled. When they were all clearly so on edge. He stood up and reached over Winter, pulling the table back closer to her, indicating that Dorian and Fiona should join them on the other side. “Please, have a seat so we can all discuss it. I would like to get your thoughts especially on this Fiona since you were the lead.”

Dorian and Fiona made their way gingerly around the table, Dorian setting the pail down in front of Winter and pushing it closer to her. She looked at the bucket as if unsure what to do with it, so Solas tilted it down and looked at it’s contents. He flashed Dorian an approving look, he had somehow known to grab some fruit, specifically a few apples. He pulled one out of the pail, setting it in front of Winter. She blinked at it for a few seconds, before tentatively picking it up, rolling it back and forth in her hands, still not feeling like herself. The other two mages settled down into their seats, and when Solas returned to his seat there was a very pregnant pause. A quick glance showed that each mage seemed to be waiting for another to begin, somewhat all at a loss on how to start the conversation. 

Winter rolled her eyes, they were being so stupid. None of them had any right to be as upset with the others as they were being, this was _her_ leg, _she_ was the one who was cursed. They needed to get over themselves and focus on what was truly important, and it was **not** their egos. She was barely holding herself together and she needed someone to talk before she exploded, or fell apart. She wasn’t sure which appealed to her less. It was up to her to get the ball rolling it seemed.  
“Well that was a disaster” They all three blinked and turned in her direction in surprise, clearly not expecting her to be the one to speak up.  
“Well it was! What happened? Why did that go south?” When no one said anything she scowled at them, “Seriously guys. All of us know that went horribly wrong. I am still hurt. My leg is aching. The curse has spread. My patience has shrunk. And you three jackasses are just sitting here glaring at each other. Now talk!” She smacked her hand against the table, punctuating her last word with the gesture, startling all three of them, glaring at them all meaningfully.

Fiona fiddled with the hem of one of her sleeves. Winter’s eyes were hard, and surprisingly hard to meet. Earlier she had seemed standoffish, but Fiona had figured it was nerves. She had not seemed hostile or intimidating, just frosty and distant. But now, now she was looking at Fiona sharply, challenging her for answers. Demanding them. And something about her whispered warnings in the back of Fiona’s mind that she was not to be trifled with. 

Fiona tried to speak, but her voice came out a croak. She swallowed and cleared her throat, and started again, reminding herself that she was the Grand Enchanter, she could handle the glare of one nonmagical elf. She was just still spooked from the earlier incident. Being overly sensitive. She still turned her attention to Solas, his grey eyes were hard, also demanding answers, but easier to stomach than Winter’s accusatory ones. “Well, initially when I probed the curse with my magic it felt normal. Well it felt like a typical curse. Touching it with a minor healing spell caused it to lash out, that was the first time that I pulled away. Thinking that I was not using enough power, I tried a different approach. I surrounded the curse with the most powerful healing spell I know, and tried to attack it from all sides. Solas and Dorian, you both lent me some of your strength. However, the more magic we put into it…” 

She trailed off, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes glistened, growing uneasy “At first it seemed to be working. It shrunk slightly. I thought we were making headway. But then it exploded.” She darted a quick glance at Winter, “Surely you felt that? It spreading?” At Winter’s curt nod Fiona turned back to Solas, “Well, it was the magic that did that. This curse, whoever cast it, whoever crafted it, they designed it to feed off magic. To be more specific, to feed off healing magic. It was created to kill a mage. A powerful mage. Quickly.” She took a deep breathe. Solas clenched his fists at the implications, a spike of apprehension shooting through him. Dorian’s face was angrily resigned. He and Fiona had talked a lot about this on their trek to the kitchens and back, but it was just as hard to hear the second time as it had been the first. 

Fiona continued, glancing at Winter again, “The person that cast this, they had to either assume you were a mage, or mistook you for someone else. Because if you had magic, this spell would have killed you long before now. There is no question that that was their goal. It’s unclear if just the presences of magic in a mage would start it or if they would need to use the magic, but I suspect it is the former.” Her face took on a dark look, “Which if it’s any consolation, the fact that you are still alive has to have them shaking in their boots. This curse would kill a powerful mage in a matter of hours, days at the longest. A weaker mage could possibly live for a week or two. They have to be at their wits end wondering why you have not succumbed yet after so long.”

Winter balled her hands into fists, not sure how to take this news, these new revelations about her condition. On the one hand, she could have just been hit with some cosmically bad luck and been cursed by mistake. On the other, someone thought she was a mage and tried to kill her. Third option was still someone out there was a massive twat and wanted her to die slowly and painfully, knowing she did not have magic all along, but wanting her to suffer to the end. Either way, they were no closer to an answer to who would curse her. And they were no closer to a cure for her. The only solution she could see at this point was chopping off her leg, which she still very much did not want to do. Solas seemed confident there was another way, and if she was the religious sort, she may have prayed that he was right.

“Well, while a small part of me takes savage joy in foiling their plans to kill me, that they are probably frustrated I’m not dead yet, most of me is still really focused on getting this curse out of me. Before it kills me anyway. I think that should be priority number one. Maybe whoever it is thinks I’m just a superbly pathetic mage and is biding his time to finish me off with other means. Since this damn thing has spread up my leg, any hopes I had for a getaway are sufficiently dashed. So. Thoughts?”

Fiona looked at her hands, ashamed to say she had no further idea. Dorian smoothed his mustache, deep in thought but it was obvious that he was coming up short in the ideas department as well. Healing had never been his strong point. 

Solas folded his arms against his chest, a raw rage filling him. He kept himself tightly in check, not wanting to lash out at any of his companions, least of all Winter. He cast a quick look her way, her face was determined, all hints of fear hidden away behind her anger, but under the table her hands were balled so tightly her knuckles were white. The more they found out about this curse the more he wanted to be the person to deliver justice on the caster. But he needed to force those emotions down. He closed his eyes and did a quick meditation in his head, evening his breathing. His anger would do nothing to help Winter at this moment, and could actually hinder progress. They had to get her fixed up, then and only then could they focus on finding whoever it was that had done this to. 

Winter was ready to scream, all three of them were just sitting there. Three of the most magically gifted people she knew of were stymied by one measly curse. When she got her hands on the person who had cast this on her, oh how they would pay. As slowly as she could kill them and make them suffer, she would. Maybe cut off a small piece of them a day until they begged for death. Perhaps death by a thousand cuts, she heard that was a miserable way to go. She was so focused on her murderous day dreams it took her by surprise when Solas spoke up, “I have a idea.” She tilted her head to the left as she looked at him, patiently waiting.

Dorian focused on Solas immediately, his eyebrows furrowed. Fiona shook her head slightly as if she were clearing the cobwebs before turning her attention to him as well. Once they were looking at him, he spoke, “I have been thinking. Remember when we needed to close the breach, for the second time? The Inquisitor enlisted the help of the mages to charge her mark, and was able to magically seal the breach with the results. The Inquisitor is a Knight-Enchanter now, and one of their spells is called Resurgence.” He said it as if it was obvious that it was important. He did not expect Winter to know what it was, but at Fiona’s and Dorian’s blank looks Solas sighed, “It calls on benign spirits to restore health. The focus of the spell is healed of any ailment no matter how serious, and it summons a glyph to provide ongoing healing for a specified amount. While I think most Knight-Enchanters can cast it, I believe it’s power can be amplified with the mark. I have never seen it used on the same level as it has when cast by the Inquisitor. It is unique to the mark. And I think it is the only spell powerful enough to cure the curse.” he paused, “We would need to be there to assist of course. Since we are familiar with what happens when healing magic is applied.”

Winter looked away, considering. She was so lost in her head she tuned out the three mages talking quickly, Solas’s idea catching with them and they were determined to look at it from all angles, not wanting a repeat of what just happened. 

Winter ignored them. She did not like where this was going at all. Bad enough that the Advisors were taking an interest in her, now Solas was telling her the only person who was capable of healing the mark was the Inquisitor herself, Evangalie Lavellan. It was almost enough to make her tempted to try the amputation route. Sure she had been years older than the Inquisitor and had never had much to do with her while she was in the clan, but she did not have a lot to do with anyone. And she was still the odd one out, even had she not avoided everyone she still stood out because she was so distinct looking from the others. Evangalie was not so young that she would not remember Winter, at least seeing her around on occasion. That was what Winter feared, that she would recognize her and out her. Of course she did not know of Winter’s gifts, but she knew she was different, she knew she was banished, and she knew what clan Winter came from. 

For a clever person that would be enough to find out more about her than she ever wanted. It would take time, but it would be possible to map out exactly where she had gone and what she had done after leaving the clan. The downside to looking like a specter. Plus she was certain Evangalie grew up listening to cautionary stories about Winter. She did not like the idea that she would share this with the others, particularly Solas. What if he started looking at her different? What if he no longer wanted to be friends? Would it finally clue to him onto what it was that made her so different? And Varric. What if he put it in one of her stories? Anyone that read one and came across her, it would be obvious who she was. The whole line of thinking was making her head hurt. She did not need anything further to worry about. This was why she avoided the Inquisitor to the best of her abilities, which she normally did a really good job of. She made sure she was rarely at Skyhold at the same time. When out on assignment, if it happened to be the same area as the Inquisitor’s party she made certain she was never at camp when she was around. She did not want to risk it, even before she had so much else to lose. 

But now it had come to this. Her choices were: cut off her leg, let the curse kill her, or take a chance and let the Inquisitor heal her. And that came with the risk that she could out Winter. An exiled Dalish elf would be a hot topic of gossip, and she wanted nothing less than she wanted to be the center of attention. It was so unusual the gossips would be like a dog with a bone. She put her head in her hands, kneading her temples. The choice was obvious: she had to get better. No matter the cost, she had to get healed. She supposed if the worst happened she at least would be healed and could slip out in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. Let the gossips talk their fill when she wasn’t around to bear witness. That wasn’t even the worst of it. She didn’t much care for what people said about her, but when they ventured near, whether to get a closer look at her or to be cruel, she saw their futures. And when they came in groups, it was overwhelming. She hated it. It was a situation that had played out a few times once she was first banished. She had attempted to set up her camp near a couple of different towns. Not close enough to be considered part of the community, but not quite far enough that her presence could be completely ignored. She did not want to join, but she thought she might need quick access to supplies she couldn’t make herself in those first few months. No matter, the rumors always shortly followed.

And then when she lashed out, fought back, it made things worse. Because it turns out, that what townsfolk like even less than a lone, strange elf who turns up out of nowhere and keeps to herself, is being bested in a fight by a scrawny, female elf, especially when the elf is outnumbered in their favor 3 to 1. Her prowess in combat always made humans uneasy. She had to move on immediately after, and it wasn’t long after that she stopped trying to be around people at all, staying in the deep woods away from all settlements no matter how big or small. Something about her put others teeth on edge, and the rumors always started soon after she settled. She found it grimly amusing that they were always the same wild stories told about her. Were human villagers so boring they all thought the same things about elves? Was a lack of creativity a hallmark of their species? They were convinced that every unknown elf they came across had some sort of ties to magic, could cast even basic spells. And many of them were convinced the elves they had known for years (strictly socially of course, _never_ on a personal level) were hiding their aptitude for the arcane arts, practicing only behind closed doors or in secret Elven Rituals. She shook her head at the folly of humans. They were convinced they were the height of sophistication and knowledge, when they were just as lost and confused as the rest of the races. Not superior at all. Might did not make right.

She raised her head, suddenly aware that it was quiet and she had been off in her head for a long time. She was surprised to see the other three were looking at her and she met Solas level gray eyes, raising one of her brows. Once he was sure he had her attention he spoke, “Well, I think it’s clear that we have to ask the Inquisitor if she will help.” Winter mutely nodded, mouth tight. She knew it was going to come to this the moment that Solas proposed the option, she was not sure why the three of them even needed to discuss it. Especially since Fiona’s healing had gone so spectacularly wrong. 

Of course they would need the Inquisitor, didn’t everyone? The poor woman was pulled in a million different directions the moment she had awoken to the mark on her hand. Everyone needed her, and those who didn’t need her, wanted her to further their own ends. It was a position she did not envy in the least, and would forever be grateful that for everything else sour in her life, for all her poor fortune, she at least did not have the Inquisitor’s fate. Varric was right, the Inquisitor did have divinely bad luck. Solas was about to say something further when a messenger ran up. He was a scrawny human youth, likely deemed too young to go into battle, but still given a place to help anyway. He was slightly out of breath, but delivered his message nonetheless “Ser Solas and Ser Dorian, Commander Cullen and Sister Lelianna require your presence in the war room,” Dorian and Solas exchanged surprised glances, Dorian addressing the boy, “Did they say what this was about?” The lad shook his head, “No Ser, just that it was urgent and to ask you to come right away” He darted off.

There was a charged hush over the library, the other three noticing for the first time. Winter gave them an arch smile, “Before we attempted the healing, Lady Lelianna received a message. Whatever it was, it agitated her. She headed out straight away, and a few of her agents followed. My guess is that whatever this meeting is about, it has to do with whatever message she received.”

Solas’s face was grave, “Then we had better go. We can continue this later.” Dorian stood up, “I agree” He stretched and twisted, trying to work out the kinks in his back, “I have a feeling before this day is up I am going to wish I were very, very drunk.” He set off toward the war room. Fiona rose as well, “I will continue looking through tombs, see if there is another way to get around this new obstacle with the curse in our way. In the future, if you have need of me, you will find me here. As for the remainder of this day, I am going to rest.” She slipped away, presumedly heading toward her quarters. 

Solas looked to Winter, who gave him a blank look back. She was overwhelmed with everything that had happened today, and was sorry it was about to get longer for Solas and the others. “I must go. I will check on you later. Don’t go far. Without the Inquisitor here this shouldn’t be long. Nothing can be decided without her.” Winter nodded, unable to tell him how wrong he was. She watched him stride away. He stopped at the top of the stairs, a hint of a smile on his lips, “And remember to stay away from others, we still do not know who it was that did this.” Winter rolled her eyes, “I’ll fight my base instincts to run out and talk to everyone I meet.” One side of of his mouth quirked higher and he was off. She chewed her lips as he disappeared from view, a strange pang stuttering inside her chest at his departure.

She was finally alone. For the first time in she almost couldn’t remember how long. Well alone while awake anyway. And not truly alone, as there were still other people in the library, even if it was a lot more sparsely populated than normal. She just wanted some time to herself, to lick her wounds and process everything that had happened. And there was only one place in this whole blasted keep where she could be sure to be left alone, the question was, how to get there with even more of her leg out of commission? 

She pulled out her crutches and resolved herself to going the safest way down to the stables rather than the quickest. The memory of almost toppling over the edge of the stairs was still fresh, and this time she wouldn’t have Solas there to catch her if she started to go down. She pocketed a couple of apples and some cheese, knowing she needed to eat something, especially after today, and set out to her destination. With the news having spread about the meeting in the war room, it was surprisingly easy to navigate around the keep. The staff were in clusters, whispering fearfully, only pretending to work when someone in charge came by, immediately dissolving into hushed groups again when they were out of sight. No one spared Winter a second glance, which was how she liked it. Hopefully whatever was going on would eclipse what had happened with her healing completely, and people would forget she was ever there with the three powerful mages.

She finally made it to the stables, breathing a sigh of relief. She wasn’t surprised to see Zelda curled up on a hay bale. When she limped in -it was amazing how much harder it was to move with the shadow spread, the ache buzzing under her skin, making each movement a spike of pain- Zelda opened one eye, closed it, then when back to sleep. “Nice to see you too Zeld” Zelda flicked her ears but didn’t give other indication that she had heard. Winter continued past her, heading to Cimmi’s enclosure. Cimmi knew she was coming and came to the door to greet her. Winter quietly slipped inside the stall and sank into the fresh hay, making a mental note to thank Blackwell for doing this. She knew he wasn’t overly fond of Cimmi, but she could imagine him there, asking Cimmi to change out the hay in her stall, Cimmi regally agreeing, and Blackwell being nervous the whole time. It was the only way for anyone besides Winter to accomplish the task. It helped lift a bit of the weight heavy on her heart to know that she had another friend willing to take care of her in small ways.

She set her crutches against the wall, on the other side of her and out of the way of Cimmi, not wanting her to step on them and accidentally snap one in half. Cimmi patiently waited, somehow knowing what Winter was doing, then once Winter was settled, Cimmi looked around the stable carefully. Once satisfied with her assessment, the strange beast herself laid down in the hay, resting her head in Winter’s lap. Winter immediately burst into tears, finally feeling safe enough to stop holding herself together. It started as a silent torrent of tears, but quickly dissolved into deep hiccuping sobs, clutching Cimmi to her.

It was all too much. The curse that was accelerating, she suspected because she was around mages. It was too much of coincidence otherwise. The magical examinations had surely started the waking process, and today when Fiona had tried to heal her, and the curse spread, she thought for sure that was it. That she was going to die. She briefly felt what it would be like, to have the curse consume her. And it shook her to her bones, completely freezing her up. There was nothing she could do, no way she could have prevented it. No way she could have stopped it if the curse had kept going. She had brushed death, and it did not leave her unaffected. She may have lucked out today, but she did not have much time left, she could feel it. If enlisting the Inquisitor’s aid did not work, if this final spell was a bust, she knew she would die. Knew it deep in her marrow. 

Cimmi let her cry, her never ending patience a comfort. Eventually Winter cried herself out, she ran out of self-pity. She decided to stay where she was, not ready to move. She had no desire to face the whole keep. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, if the others were out of the meeting yet or not, and she didn’t think she had the strength just yet to talk to anyone about what the conference was about. She knew what would happen thanks to her visions, Cullen would immediately start mobilizing the troops, sending the bulk of the army ahead, knowing full well the Inquisitor would cover more ground a lot quicker with her small party than the massive beast their army had become. She would easily catch up and meet them at the Adamant in time for the siege. So Winter hunkered down in the hay, content to hide for awhile longer. She pulled out an apple and slowly at it, so preoccupied with everything else she barely tasted it.

When she had finally regained her compusure, she started talking, not even aware that she needed to. She spilled everything to Cimmi, the words just pouring out of her. From very beginning, starting with her clan, and everything that had happened with them, to all the things after, every skirmish, every run in with shems, every encounter with all the towns she had stopped in, the way everyone treated and responded to her, to the present and all the events of today. She spoke in a low tone, and Cimmi’s intelligent eyes and gentle patience kept her talking. She was so quiet no one outside the stall would be able to hear, the hay absorbing her voice. When she got to today she got a little choked up again, but was able to power through. After she finished telling the whole story, she felt a bit like she had let out the poison. It felt good to get it all off her chest.  
“Thank you for listening Cimmi. You know you’re the only person I can fully confide in, right?” The horse nuzzled closer, Winter knew she understood. The animal was smarter than it looked. She shifted, then paused. Her leg did not hurt as bad, in fact it barely hurt at all. She turned her eyes to Cimmi and regarded her carefully, something occurring to her. She glanced at her leg then back at Cimmi. She thought back to when it started and stopped, and it had not ever since Cimmi had laid down next to her. She gnawed her lip, thinking. Cimmi was resistant to magic, was it possible that just being around her would stifle malevolent maladies? Did it work with all magic or just certain ones? And could Cimmi choose?

She realized she was exhausted as her brain attempted to whirl with this new information. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe it was wishful thinking. There was no way right now she was going to test this theory by getting up and walking away, she did not have the energy. And to date, today was probably the most debilitating one she had ever experienced. She would process this later. She settled into the hay and with Cimmi’s comforting presence and protection, was able to drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!


	9. So what's the plan for getting past those guys?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this took forever. Sorry everyone. 
> 
> The only explanation I can give you is depression is a bitch, and work has taken every last shred of energy lately. So the holiday and a few days off were much appreciated. 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

Solas was furious. When Cullen, Lelianna, and Josephine had gathered them, he did not realize it was going to be everyone, all of the inner circle. He had just assumed they needed Dorian and his own magical expertise. Walking into the war room, he saw he was the last to arrive. The three advisors were talking quietly to themselves off to the side, the rest of them were scattered about, some looking interested, some looking bored and some like they were contemplating mayhem. When Solas shut the door behind him, the three looked up. As one they glanced at each other, then formed a line. Cullen’s hand sought out the pommel of his sword, as it so often did when he was thinking or nervous. Lelianna’s hands were behind her back, her face serious, but her eyes simmering with anger. Josephine was the only one who looked normal, and she had her pen poised, notebook ready. Her polite social mask was in place. But the set of her shoulders were too tight. Something was seriously wrong for the Ambassador to slip up like that, and for Lelianna to show so much emotion. 

Lelianna had launched in without preamble, true to her nature. She could dance the game with the best of them, but when it mattered she got down to business. With each sentence Solas felt his contempt for the Wardens grow. He glanced at Blackwall, to see if he was giving any inclination that he knew this was going on at all, but he looked just as shocked as the rest of them. Sera was the easiest to read, her erratic emotions written all over her face, she had brought her bow and was plucking at the string angrily, furious eyes darting around, probably wondering who she could hit with an arrow. Her gaze kept skittering to Blackwall and away, brow furrowing, her tempo on the string increasing every time he was in her line of sight. Bull’s jaw had tightened, his good eye sparked with fury, and a touch of fear. Solas guessed he was wondering how he was going to beat this obstacle down like he did all the others. How the big Qunari was able to finesse spy work when he needed to never ceased to amaze him.

Varric was stroking Bianca, his mouth in a thin line. He briefly met Solas’s eyes, his mouth going even thinner. He wasn’t a huge fan of magic, and Solas figured this was yet another mark in his book against it. His gaze skirted back to Lelianna, taking in every word that fell from her lips. Dorian was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his mustache bristling. Solas guessed he was just sort of an outburst himself. When Lelianna mentioned blood magic his knuckles grew white, his hands clenching his arms. An eerie look crossed his face, and Solas could not quite place the emotion. Somewhere between rage and resignation. Solas noticed the others had glanced his way themselves when blood magic was mentioned, and he almost felt bad that the legacy of the art seemed to follow Dorian around, even though he made explicitly clear he wanted no part of it. 

But he kept coming back to Blackwall, who seemed to be sweating, struggling with some deep internal struggle. He knew him and Winter were friends of a sort, and he wondered if she had had any idea, if the man had given any indication of what was going on with the Wardens. He had always stated with the Inquisitor that he was a loner even among the order, never having contact with others of his ilk.  
By his appearance, Solas would guess that he had no idea. He seemed to be very upset with learning why the Wardens were disappearing, and Solas did not blame him one bit. He felt his own anger coiled hot and tight in his belly.

So much that was a mystery was becoming clear. It seemed Stroud had sensed corruption with the order and was investigating, which was why he was being hunted by his own kind. His instincts proved right, in the worst way. Corypheus was somehow issuing a false Calling, and the Wardens were grasping at straws for a solution to the Blights. Anger coursed through his veins, a very stupid solution. Blood magic and this perversion of Spirits… He clasped his hands behind his back to keep from lashing out. It had been a long time since he was this angry. This _perversion_ went against everything he believed in. He watched the Advisors as Lelianna finally came to an end, telling them that they were issuing orders for their Army to be on the move, after the Inquisitor arrived she would rest for a day or so, before immediately setting out for Adamant Fortress to lay siege to it. As a small party she would easily be able to catch up with such a large force. 

All hands would need to be on deck for the siege, and the Inquisitor had requested only a skeleton crew be left behind to protect the fortress and the refugees, most of the able bodied people were needed on the front lines. The others merely nodded, still struggling to process this. Something in Dorian’s face kept the others from asking about blood magic, though he could see it on the tip of a few of their tongues. At last they were dismissed, when it was clear no one was going to object to the game plan. They all understood that stopping Corypheus from gaining a demon army of Wardens at his disposal was too serious to not attend to immediately. Who knew what they would bring through the Veil. And with an army he would easily conquer Thedas. 

Lelianna asked Blackwall and Solas to hang back. Solas knew where this was going. He retreated a respectful distance so the three could question Blackwall, to see if he had any inkling of what was going on. Lelianna had an odd glint in her eyes, a sardonic cast to her mouth. The other two were intent on Blackwall and didn’t notice. The man seemed sincere in his denial of any knowledge of what was going on, and he must have convinced them because he was soon dismissed as well.

Solas kept his hand tightly clasped behind his back. The longer he thought about it, the more this misconduct of the Spirits and the Fade offended him. The power grubbing of mortals knew no bounds. And as the Wardens were a mostly human organization, with human leaders, he blamed them as well. It was increasingly becoming hard to not lash out. He reminded himself that now was not the time. He kept his face serene as he looked to Lelianna, Josephine, and Cullen. He had a feeling he knew what this was going to be about. And when Cullen began speaking, his suspicions were confirmed. 

Cullen kept his shoulders back, but his hands remained on his pommel, as if he was itching to draw the blade and march on Adamant right this second. As a former Templar this was exactly the sort of thing he had been trained to fight against, trained to find abhorrent. Solas briefly wondered if this harsh reminder of what magic was capable of would make a difference to the man in the courtship of the Inquisitor. It certainly made him more wary in the treatment of him, as there was a coldness about him that had not been present the last time they had spoke. It suited him, he was not keen on becoming chummy with the Commander anytime soon. 

He began without preamble, “The Inquisitor has specifically requested that you be with her in the small party to breach the Fortress. She feels that your expertise with the Fade and Spirits will be vital.”  
Solas nodded, he had expected as much. Cullen was not finished, “Solas, do you know what kind of demons they would be pulling through? How large of one they could do?”  
Solas considered the question, “It would depend on the size and power of both the anchor, that is the mage on this side of the Veil, and on the power of the sacrifice. It is my understanding there are some very strong Mages in the Order, and I know there are some very strong Spirits in the Fade. Together, it is hard to estimate anything other than quite powerful and dangerous.”

Cullen nodded, and the color drained slightly from Josephine’s face. Lelianna had her mask back in place, and her expression was unreadable. “Do you have any other questions?”  
Cullen shook his head, “No, we just wanted you to be aware of the situation, and to be prepared.” He rubbed the back of his head, “It just seems like blood magic has been more of an issue lately.” Lelianna nodded. With a subtle glance at Solas, she turned to Cullen, “I think that is all for today. I know you both have many preparations to make for the upcoming battle…” Cullen jumped at the chance to leave the room, Solas made him uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t put his finger on. At first he thought it was the magic that permeated from the man, but now he was not so sure. He was also eager to prepare his troops, this would be the first big test of their mettle, and he was eager to prove himself, and them. Josephine looked relieved, she likely had many many letters to write in the coming days, and was eager to get to work. 

 

Once they had left Lelianna turned back to him, “I also wanted to inquire about the attempt to heal your scout this morning, and an update on her condition.”

Solas considered the question, he had momentarily forgotten Winter in light of the Wardens horrendous actions, this new revelation about Corypheus, and the scope of his abilities. It took him a moment to organize his thoughts, “Our attempts this morning were unsuccessful, and seemed to have made her condition worse. We are no closer to finding out who cursed her, or how to get rid of it. I have an idea, but it will require more research and maybe some time we do not have.”

Lelianna nodded, seemingly not surprised that they were unsuccessful this morning, “I have had a few of my agents asking around, among other things, to see if they have heard any rumors of mysterious disappearances in areas with suspected or known blood mages in residence. So far they have come up with nothing, which is not usual for them. It raises more questions where I had expected to find some answers.” Her gaze became more intense, as though she thought _he_ was hiding something from her as well.

When the silence had stretched on, Lelianna continued, “My agents are very good. They should have come up with something by now, not constant dead ends.”

Solas gave a noncommittal shrug, hedging his words so not to give too much away, Lelianna was too clever for her own good, he needed to tread lightly, “Winter still maintains that she has no idea who would have cursed her. I am inclined to believe her, she has an, ah, aversion to mages, so she avoids them. She does not know when she would have gotten close enough for one to have cursed her, or even why one would. And as the curse spreads she becomes more desperate for a cure, I do not believe she would keep such vital information to herself. Not when catching the caster could reveal the counter spell. She wants to be healed and find the culprit more than any of us. She is uniquely motivated, as it is her life that is hanging in the balance.” 

Lelianna raised a brow but didn’t comment on Winter having an aversion to mages, and Solas knew how that must look. From an outside perspective she had taken to him and Dorian like a duck to water, her discomfort never clear to others. In reality, she avoided everyone; so that mages were on that list was not that surprising. He felt a twinge of guilt having to reveal that much to the spymaster, he knew how Winter hated other people knowing anything about her. Every thing he knew he had to work for, earn her trust. It didn’t seem right to just tell to another. But secrecy on his part now would just make her more suspicious. 

Lelianna did not look fully convinced. The close scrutiny made him uncomfortable, Solas did not feel like elaborating. The murderous look Winter got on her face when she was contemplating who had done this to her was enough proof to him that if she knew who had cast this, they would have already been skinned alive, after they reversed it. She was wary of mages, true, but he had no doubts that if she had to, she would find a way to render one immobile long enough to make them suffer. She was clever and capable when it came to killing. 

“Lelianna, Winter has my full trust. I am certain that if she knew anything she would share. She does not want this to happen to anyone else. And again, she is the most motivated of us to find a cure as it her life that is in jeopardy. She believes strongly in what the Inquisitor is doing, and is in no way a threat to anyone.” He met her gaze squarely so she knew that he was sincere. 

Lelianna nodded slowly, “I am not implying otherwise, I am simply stating that _any inquiries_ about her are turning up nothing. I know it has only been a few days, but I should have upturned something. Into Winter’s origins, when she joined, and if she had any known enemies, nothing. All blanks. It is as if she simply appeared out of no where. No one knew her or of her before she showed up here. Half of the scouts can not even tell me when they noticed her, it was as if she was always a fixture they never really observed, and many are claiming she’s been with the Inquisition since the beginning. The local city elves claim she does not hail from them, and I am certain the Dalish will offer up no information either, not that I expect them to. Scout Harding maintains that she is one of the best Scouts she has, she is more efficient and thorough than most, and she has an uncanny knack for knowing where our enemies are likely to be holed up. And even she can not pinpoint when Winter joined or came to her attention. It is most intriguing.” 

She paused and Solas could not stop himself from asking, “And the other half?”

Lelianna’s eyes grew more intense, “The other half of the scouts have no idea who I was talking about. She has been around for weeks, months it seems, and most of this keep does not know her. Even those who know of her are not familiar with her, did not even remember seeing her around.” Her mouth twitched, “That is, until her song in the Herald’s Rest. Now that she has been seen around with you, more people are curious.”

The fine hairs on Solas’s neck prickled, he needed to tread carefully. Clearly Lelianna did not think Winter was a threat, or she would already have been taken care of. It was more of something to be studied, and see if her methods could be replicated. But her interest was not ideal either. He had to think of something here to get her off the trail.  
He shrugged, “She has not told me when exactly she joined, but her injury was sustained at the Fall of Haven, the curse I’m certain was cast prior to the attack, so it was before then. Beyond that….she is a tight lipped sort.”  
A ghost of a smile graced Lelianna’s lips, her eyes were briefly amused, “Aren’t we all” Just as soon as her amusement appeared it vanished, “But no matter. These are questions I intend to find the answers to.”

“Surely there are other more pressing concerns. Why do the origins of one lowly scout matter? They hardly loiter around the keep anyway, it’s unlikely that most would have seen her with her being out on assignment so regularly.”  
Lelianna gave Solas a long look, “If there was nothing to hide, it wouldn’t be impossible to find. There is a reason I can’t uncover anything and I intend to find out why. Mysteries intrigue me. And if she is so efficient, maybe she should be more than a ‘lowly’ Scout.” Solas did not comment. He knew Winter would never want to be in a position of command, she shied away from anything that would give her notoriety of any sort.

He tried a different tactic, “How can you justify sending vital agents after the background of one person of no significance? Is that not a mismanagement of resources, given the other circumstances?”

Lelianna gave him a polite smile, eyes unreadable, “I do not send them specifically. They ask around on their other missions. My agents are capable of managing multiple objections at once when out on assignment.”

She seemed to make up her mind about something and continued, “Solas, in the beginning I was able to meet all the Scouts personally. Take some brief information about them. It allowed me to get a feel for their background. I also had them sign their name, or, if they could not write, mark in blood on the scroll stating their pledge to the Inquisition. When we grew, I had clerks take over that task. Trusted, handpicked people I trained myself. No one joined or walked through our halls without me knowing them, or of them. Until your girl. She is an oversight, a blind spot I can not afford to ignore again. Even if it was not for my own curiosity, then for the safety of our organization and it’s members. What if this person who cursed her managed the same thing? Is under our nose and targeting our numbers? I must get to the bottom of it.”

Solas digested her words. “And how do you intend to find out, should their inquiries continue to prove fruitless? With Winter’s worsening condition, an interrogation would not be best…for her health.”  
Lelianna grew thoughtful, and Solas hoped she caught the edge to his voice, his hands tightening behind his back in an effort to keep his emotions in check. He would not allow her to torture it out of Winter, since awakening he had grown familiar enough with humans to guess that would be where this would end up. Maybe not at first, but he would not put it past the Nightingale to end up there eventually. She was ruthless when she felt she needed it to be. And had no qualms about taking the routes others may shy away from.

She gave him an appraising look, “No, I do not think that is necessary, she appears to be an anomaly. And there is plenty else to occupy my time, I am merely sharing my findings with you, preliminary though they are. For now I am content to observe, and see what my agents turn up.”

Solas was under no illusions, she was testing the waters to see if he would give anything away. The Nightingale was shrewd. This was also a warning, if she were to dig into Winter’s past, she would do so for anyone, even Solas. He mentally shrugged, he knew it was a matter of time anyway. He planned to be long gone by the time they were able to find, or rather not find, anything about him. And like Lelianna said, it was still early. It was unusual she had found nothing, but not unheard of. 

“Understood. Did you need me for anything else? If not, I have plans to make for the upcoming battle. I feel that it will be an ordeal for all of us, and I would like to meet it as best prepared as I am able.”

Lelianna nodded, “Of course. Time is short. Perhaps I should not have mentioned this now, but” She shrugged, “I am not certain I will get another chance, depending on what the week brings.”

Solas inclined his head and left, keeping his movements deliberate and unhurried. He felt her eyes on him the entire walk to the door, and reminded himself that she could not see through the walls to watch where he went. 

Once past the throne room, he let his thoughts go where they may. He would need to warn Winter, but when? He found himself in an unsavory situation. He seemed to have developed feelings for someone and it was clouding his judgement. Even more infuriating, he knew it was clouding his judgement but still he wanted to put off telling her until she was healed. Stressing her in her weakened state and he was worried she would lose her strength to fight for her life. But not telling her would betray her trust, possibly beyond repair. He found that almost equally as unappealing.

To distract himself, he let the Warden’s folly back into his mind, and became so consumed with contempt it drove the other thoughts from his head.

 

~~~~

Winter stirred, after how long she wasn’t sure. She did not even remember falling asleep, but it must have happened at some point. She felt like death. Her face felt stiff, and she gingerly reached up and ran her fingers over it. She was disgusted with herself to find tears dried on her cheeks. What if someone had seen her, crying like a child, hiding in the stable? Anger at her carelessness warmed her limbs, waking them up from their stiff positioning. She was working herself up to a proper berating when Cimmi nudged her, and snorted, one cloudy eye fixing her with a hard stare. Maybe it was her imagination, but she felt like she was telling her to stop being ridiculous, tears were okay sometimes. She shook her head, shaking sleep nonsense from her mind. She partially blamed her newfound, so-called friends. She never would have been susceptible to these feelings before there were people in her life. People that she cared about. They were infecting her. Damn them.

Her leg was dully throbbing, and it took her a minute to remember why, her napping seemed to have numbed her brain. She scowled at it, sorely tempted again to grab one of her short swords stashed in Cimmi’s stall and just start hacking away at the offending limb. She slumped back against the wall again, no closer to any solutions to her problems than before her fall into self-pity. She was in worse shape than before. She glanced at Cimmi, would probably be in a more terrible predicament once she left Cimmi’s presence. She tilted her head, reminded of what she had discovered before she fell asleep. Maybe that was was the Inquisitor did not care for her. On a subconscious level she picked up on the fact that Cimmi was dampening her. Maybe that was why all the mages of the Collective did not want to keep her. She bit her lip and smiled, her affection for Cimmi growing. She did not like mages any more than Winter did.

But that did not solve her current problems. She glared at her crutches, as if they were to blame. Looking at them, her mind turned to Blackwall, welcoming the distraction. She wondered how the meeting had gone, how he was handling the news that his heroes were falling from grace. She cocked her head and listened, but did not hear him in the barn. It was too late for him to be doing sword work, he would normally be at one of his woodworking projects for the kids. But there was only silence from that direction, deafeningly absent over the rustling of the mounts in the stable. 

She closed her eyes and really listened, trying to strain her reach to outside the barn. It had been a long time, and she knew what the meeting was about. It should not be much longer until there was a desperate flurry of activity as everyone prepared to march on Adamant. A skeleton crew would be all that remained. She wondered what that would be like. Probably a relief. She refused to admit that it might be lonely, and ignored the flash of grey eyes in her mind. As if waiting for her, she suddenly heard marching, and sensed a flurry of people descending on the stables. The meeting must have ended, and the orders came through. She shrank back into the hay, no one would come near Cimmi’s stall, but this many people nearby, in what she considered one of her safe places, set her teeth on edge. She hated it. 

She looked sadly at her leg again, she would probably not be healed in time for them to leave. She would be no help during the siege, left behind with the other unsuitables. How she missed the music of battle. The rhythmic beat of metal on metal, her daggers singing beneath her palms, air whooshing out her lungs. Leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. She was at her best when she was able to easily dispatch her problems, cut them down from her path. But instead she would be stuck here, with a bum leg. Less than useless. A shiver went through her, what if whoever had cast this would use this as an opportunity to finish her off? 

She cast a glance at Cimmi, she’d be sticking close to her. She was confident they wouldn’t try to take her with them, no one else could ride her and there was the possibility she would just refuse to go. She was willful, and it was clear she only did things she wanted to. Winter joked to herself that the reason they got along was because they agreed on the same things, mainly who to maim (everyone) and who was to be trusted (no one), and that being stuck indoors (the worst). She missed the open woods, freedom, and complete control of her self. She sensed Cimmi hated being cooped up in this stall, she longed to be out and for battle as well. Both of them were hostages of the keep, neither able to leave like they wanted to. Her body had turned into a prison, and in cruel irony she did not even have her visions to take her mind off of it. To distract her and show her the wonders of the world. 

Her thoughts drifted back to Blackwall. Would his cover be blown? Did this shake his confidence in the Wardens? Was he able to convince the Advisors that he had no prior knowledge of this? He had taken up the identity of one because they were something great to aspire to, did this tarnish them in his eyes? Did he regret his choice? Did this shake his faith? It was a nice change to think about someone else’s problems for once, it provided her with some moments of relief. 

Cimmi nestled closer and Winter began humming as her mind turned circles, sometimes singing random lines, not sticking to any particular songs, not even monitoring what time period they were from, or what she had seen in visions versus heard with her own ears. She just needed the comfort, she still was not ready to face the world.

~~~~~

Solas held his composure until he got back to usual haunt below the library, and even then he just let the polite mask drop from his face. He was simmering with anger. Anger at the Wardens for this folly, anger at whoever cursed Winter, and anger that the cure that morning did not take, and instead made things worse. Everything piling on was making his composure crack, and he was almost glad there was going to be a coming fight, as a way to blow off some steam.

At the thought of Winter he looked around, just now realizing she was absent. He had not seen her since he left the War Room, not that he expected her to be hanging around outside it for him to be done. And the walk through the keep from the War Room was not exactly somewhere that she would willingly haunt. Josephine’s office and around the throne were too open and too populated. He glanced upward, but did not see her hanging over the railing (truthfully would have been surprised if he had). 

Worry coiled in his gut, where could she have gotten to? She knew she needed to stick close, although when he and Dorian had to abruptly leave he did not exactly think on what she would do while he was gone, nor did he expect the meeting to be what it was, or to last as long as it did. He was at the top of the stairs to the library and glanced around, but she was not there. Dorian shaking his head confirmed that she was not tucked away in one of the nooks or crannies of the place. He quickly turned away, making it clear he was not in the mood for chit chat. Solas was mildly surprised to find him in the library at all, and not down in the Herald’s Rest with a bottle of wine, as he was prone to do. But if there was ever news that was too big for alcohol, a demon army under the control of their enemy, at the sacrifice of some of the nations finest warriors, who were supposed to be among their greatest protectors, would qualify as it. 

He ducked back down the stairs, stamping down panic. Varric was not in his usual spot by the fire, and Solas guessed he was off somewhere where he would not be disturbed. Not that he blamed him. The days events seemed to have that effect on everyone, all of them were shaken. He made his way out the front of the keep, serious eyes sweeping the grounds before him. He checked behind the wall where he had first met her, disappointed not find her there. Where could she be?

He heard a horse whiney and some shouting, and his eyes turned toward the stables. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at his own foolishness, he set off in that direction. Of course that is where she went; to be with her cantankerous horse. And probably her wretched cat. He wondered what that said about Winter that all the beings she kept company with were beings other people could not stomach, or had no one else. 

The stables were crowded. There was activity everywhere. Equipment was being inspected and packed, the horses shoes were being checked and fixed. With the way Master Dennet ran his stables and kept at the horses, Solas figured it would not take them long to finish. 

He wound his way through, the places were so busy the stablehands did not scurry away from him like they normally would. Most barely spared him a second glance, which suited him. He made his way to the back, where Cimmi was kept. It was much quieter. The stalls around her were empty already, and he could not remember if the last time that he was here they held horses. They must have, space was too precious and if the Bog Unicorn caused too much of a fuss he did not think the Inquisition would have allowed it to stay, no matter how important an alliance with the Collective was. 

He slowed as he drew near, not quite positive which stall the beast was normally in, as he did not see it, or rather it’s sword, poking over the front of the stall. But when he stilled he heard humming, and followed the sound to it’s source. He paused before approaching the stall, not wanting to interrupt. The worry he held tight in is stomach dissipated, and he allowed himself a moment to listen to her as his nerves strived for equilibrium. She was singing lowly under her breath before fading into humming again. He was struck anew by the loveliness of her voice, even if he could not make out the words. He wondered if she had ever tried her hand at earning coin as a traveling minstrel. Probably not knowing her, but she easily could. If she did not wish to sing her story telling would be an excellent alternative. 

Abruptly she stopped, and he heard her voice clearly from the other side of the door, “Whoever you are, you have better keep moving unless you want a dagger between the eyes” There was a snort, and a thud. He heard her mutter “ow!” and he found himself stifling a smile, as her voice was slightly wheezed “Or if you like your head attached to your shoulders, not cleaved from your body.”

He heard her under her breath, “You don’t have to be so hateful you mean thing. I can still hold my own.” He heard another snort. Solas shook his head, both animal companions had an uncanny intelligence as well. It was slightly unnerving. 

He heard movement behind the door and much sooner than he would have thought possible, the Bog Unicorn’s head loomed over the side of the stall, it’s cloudy eyes smoldering. When the animal realized it was him, it’s demeanor shifted. He would not call it trust, as the beast was still clearly guarded, but it relaxed somewhat and lost it’s menacing air.

He bowed his head in a show of respect. And was rewarded with Cimmi completely backing off, all traces of hostility gone. It was curiously silent from inside the stall.

Winter glared up at Cimmi, whoever it was up there instead of lobbing off their head like they agreed on, she had retreated and let the person approach. She was not ready to face people yet, but it seemed as if people were ready to face her. She scrubbed her hands down her cheeks again, picking the crusty bits out of the corner of her eyes. She tried not to spare much thought to how she looked, specifically the obvious signs of distress like discolored skin and swollen eyes. She was fairly confident there was just one person that it could be that came looking for her, especially since the rest of everyone would be preoccupied with the bomb just dropped on them.

She looked up, and met Solas’s eyes as he leaned over the door, his eyebrows raised and the rest of him unreadable. She hoped her face was just as blank, but she suspected it was not, the past 24 hours weighing too heavily on her. 

Solas looked down at Winter. She looked miserable. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were puffy. He tightened his hands on the door, resisting the urge to open it and gather her into his arms. She had had a hell of a week, and it was preceded by a hell of a month. And it was only getting worse. He was wondering how to proceed when she spoke, “So how was the meeting? It took ages.”

His face clouded, and she guessed he did not take the news well. It occurred to her that she was so concerned with _what_ was happening she had not spared any thought to his _feelings_ about what was happening. With his close affinity for spirits, he was probably taking this harder than the others would, except for Blackwall. 

He glanced around, obviously not wanting to be over heard. She looked at Cimmi, wondering if she would let Solas into her stall. She guessed she probably would, the beast’s indifference to him was borderline affectionate for her, at least with other people. 

She slid over and patted the hay. Solas glanced warily at Cimmi, but when the horse did not make any threatening movements he decided to risk it. This was probably the most private place in the whole keep. Everyone else gave the frightful animal a wide berth.

He opened the stall door and slipped inside, settling next to her in the straw. The Bog Unicorn took a position that he could only describe as resuming guard over the pair of them. He had a new appreciation for the animal, she seemed to be a fierce protector and he was glad she had taken to Winter like she had. Even if the beast had a musty odor. It was not unpleasant, but reminded him of catacombs. The small stall felt unusually quiet. He could still hear the activity around them, but the quality of air in the had a stillness he was not accustomed to. It was similar to being around a Templar or even the Seeker, but lacked the tang of menace they usually carried. He glanced at the Bog Unicorn, Winter had mentioned that it was resistant to magic. It seemed that was not the full story. 

In any rate he felt at ease. He shifted closer until their shoulders were touching. He was glad for the contact, however slight. It was helping to ground him. They just sat like that for some time, neither talking, just enjoying the silence between the two of them and each others company. Winter knew he would talk about the meeting when he was ready. The severity of the situation demanded it.

After a long time, when the activity of the stables seemed to quiet down a bit, he was ready. He kept his face trained ahead. “The meeting was…. unsettling to put it mildly. The Wardens are sacrificing their own to bring demons into this world. It seems the mages are bound to the demons, somehow making them mindless servants of Corypheus. We knew he was raising a demon army, now we know how.”

Winter had no idea how to react to that organically, so she kept her face forward so he couldn’t see her expression, lest her eyes give her away, glad he was doing the same. Both were careful not to look at the other. “Well, that really fucking sucks” she finally bit out. 

Solas was so startled he laughed, whatever he was expecting her to say, it was not that.  
Winter half grinned at his laughter, glad she could lighten the mood a bit. She sobered back up pretty quickly though, “So, is that all the activity then? They are sending the army out to meet them head on?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod. “Yes, the troops are marching as soon as they are able. The Inquisitor is on her way here presently, where she will rest for a day or so, before setting out with a small party to catch up with the forces.”

“Naturally. So where do you fit in with all of this?”

“I am going to be with her small party. Since the Fade is my area of expertise she would like me with her when she confronts the Warden Commander.”

Even though she was prepared for what he had to say, actually hearing it was like a punch to the gut. “Sounds like fun” Her voice sounded off to her own ears.

“Yes, a real laugh riot.” His voice was flat as well.  
“So what are you going to do?”  
“What I must do. I pledged to help the Inquisition just like you did” he side eyed her, wanting to see if she reacted, but she was still starting straight ahead, face blank, “So I will do my duty.”

Winter nodded, she knew he would. She expected nothing less of him. “I wish I was going with you. With the army. Or rather, ahead of the army. I haven’t been able to do my job for some time.” She rubbed her leg, “And it doesn’t appear like I will be able to anytime soon.” For the first time she sounded glum.

Solas did not know what to say to that, and let the silence envelop them once more. Despite the nature of their conversation he felt strangely calm. He wondered if it was just because of Winter’s presences or if it was her total lack of reaction. She was taking this news better than any of the others had. He admired that about her.

Winter was internally struggling. She had insider intel on what was coming for them, but she dared not let anyone know. She had no way to explain, and really, who would believe her at this moment? That the Inquisitor and her small party were going to walk physically in the Fade? Well fall into it anyway. That had not been done in memory, the last people to have accomplished it were said to have created the Darkspawn. She could almost live with being the crazy alarmist that warned them of impossible things, but she knew she could not live, or at least escape, if she told them how. She mentally frowned at herself, she rarely struggled with guilt on keeping information about the future to herself. Another unfortunate side effect of feelings and caring about people she supposed. In any rate, she felt like she needed to say something, anything.

“So not to sound like the most self-involved person in the world, but what are we going to do about my leg? This curse? Am I going to putz around here waiting on when you get back, _if_ you even make it back? A demon army is kind of…an impossible thing to combat.” Her voice took on an edge, and she pursed her lips. Her control was slipping. She coughed, slipping her indifferent mask back into place. 

Someone else would have heard just how she was concerned about her own well-being. But over the past couple of days he had started to figure her out. She was worried about him; afraid he would not come back. Yes she wanted to be healed, but she was also worried about him. The thought warmed him, and somehow made what was to come more manageable. 

“Well my aim is to petition the Inquisitor when she gets back to try the spell we discussed earlier. I think it is our best option. Inopportune timing certainly, but with the entire keep going to meet this demon army, we can not risk whoever cast this using the skeleton crew as an opportunity to strike, finish you off, and then have what they need to cast this on another person, or worse, multiple persons.”

Winter nodded, marginally relieved. If he thought this spell with the Inquisitor was their best bet, then she would believe him. She should probably be more concerned about this attempt not working, especially after the last one had failed so spectacularly, but she rationalized that Solas was not on board with that one to begin with and expressed concern on whether or not it would work. She would trust him.

“Okay, if you think this is my best bet. Do you think that she will be up to it? She has to be tired from traveling, and then to rest just a day before heading off again?”

Out of her peripheral vision she saw him slowly nod his head, “I think when I lay everything out she will do whatever she can to make this right. She has just as low of an opinion of blood magic as the rest of this country.” He paused, trying to think how to word this next part, “And she takes the oaths of her people seriously. She knows what a hefty thing it is, to promise yourself to a cause, knowing you might die in the process. But for someone to target someone specific, this is different. This is someone using the chaos of the turmoil to further their own foul gains. If for nothing else, she will help because she will view this as a personal insult upon herself.”

Winter was quiet as she digested this information. This was twice in the same conversation he had mentioned being bound to the Inquisition by a pledge. Something was up.

“How long have you known?” She turned and looked at him, fingers twitching toward her daggers, and he met her face squarely after flickering a gaze toward her hands, “Not long.”

She narrowed her eyes, there went her element of surprise, “How?”

“You are not going to like it.”

Winter made a great effort to keep herself still, but her instincts were telling her to cut and run. She had been found out. Reality held her in place, she could not run away. Physically se was unable to. Well she could try, but he was between her and the door and she would not get far. Even if she were in peak condition she was not sure she could escape this. And she could not seem to bring herself to cut his throat and be done with it anyway. Her only option was to see how this played out and hear what he had to say.  
 “I’ll work through my feelings”

Solas nodded. Winter’s eyes were so focused he felt a little uneasy, and he was gratified that she had not made more than a token effort toward her daggers. At least she was not going to gut him. Or attempt to gut him. But whether it was because she needed him or because she had grown attached to him was uncertain. He glanced at Cimmi, he was not certain he would have been able to cast quick enough to deter her blade, or even cast at all. 

He looked back at Winter and carefully relayed everything the Nightingale had said to him, including how she was going to keep this to herself for the time being. As he talked Winter’s gaze turned inward, and her lips were moving. She bit her bottom lip and turned forward once more, leaning against the stall. This was bad. This was very bad. Lelianna knew she was not as she claimed. She knew she had never fully joined the Inquisition, had faked going through initiation. It seemed like so far her identity was safe, but for how long? The Nightingale was ruthless, clever, and as far as she was concerned, her reach was endless. The Chantry was all throughout Thedas, wherever they were Lelianna had a connection. 

The other things were just as concerning. Studying her? Putting her in command of other people? Nothing about any of those things held any appeal to her. Being under that close of scrutiny by someone with an entire spy network at her disposal made her want to completely move to another continent. Perhaps the other side of the world. Somewhere there was no Chantry. 

And having a command? Responsibilities? Hard pass. She knew she could do it, but at what cost? She was sure she would be a brilliant strategist, a perk of being able to see what the opponents next move would be. The risk was too great though. She would be tethered to something. Her eccentrics would never go unnoticed if she had people reporting to her constantly.

“Well…that fucking sucks too”

Solas snorted. “It could. It might work out all right. With everything else going on, it is not as if you are the only puzzle that requires her attention. We are fighting a war right now. I think if you had not had so many key people as character witnesses it might be a different story.”

“I never thought it would come down to that. My survival dependent on my ability to make friends. In fact, I would have placed good coin on the opposite.”

Solas tilted his head, “I think you are selling yourself short. From what I can tell you form relationships easily enough. Very easily in fact.”  
She shook her head, “Not usually. This past week has been…the exception, not the rule,” she quirked her lips, “Although perhaps I can only befriend a certain caliber of person.”

He gave her a curious look, “How do you mean?”  
“Consider who I’ve formed bonds with. People who are known to be outsiders, the ones that stand separate from the norms.” She started ticking them off her fingers, “There’s Blackwall, the solo Warden. Dorian, the Necromancer from Tevinter. The Iron Bull, a Qunari spy and leader of a mercenary troupe. Varric, the Dwarven writer who hates caves. And you, an Apostate mage. Not a city elf, not a Dalish elf, and never have you encountered a Circle.” When she got to the fifth finger, she made a fist and put her hands in her lap. “See? Unique people. Regular, every day people can’t stand me, and I can’t stand them. And in my day to day, all I encountered were regular, everyday people.” She looked at him and smiled, her eyes playful, “So only the irregular ones for me I guess.”

He nodded, turning to look at her once more, much more serious than she was, “I see what you mean. I myself have trouble connecting with people. Here I have met a few friends of whom I value greatly.”

His look was very pointed at her, and to her absolute horror Winter felt a blush tinge her cheeks. There it was again, hidden in the grey of his eyes, clear after the meaning of his words infiltrated her brain. Feelings she couldn’t fathom and that scared her with what they could mean. Her mind scrambled with a safe topic to steer the conversation. For the moment she was trapped, unable to look away. Her mouth moved quicker than her brain and rushed out, “So aren’t you going to ask me?”

Solas gave her a curious look, struggling to keep up with her abrupt changes, “Ask you what?”  
Winter bit her cheek, annoyed at herself and how cowardly she was, “How I managed to infiltrate a large organization with one of the best Spymasters this side of Thedas and no one was any the wiser?”

He chuckled, “I’m assuming how you managed to do anything, with great skill.”  
She pursed her lips to the side, flattered he thought so highly of her. 

“How did you do it?”  
She grinned, “Act like you belong.”  
Solas rolled his eyes, amused in spite of himself. He could give her some tips on blending in, since waking up he felt like he was in a place that had an uncanny resemblance to the Thedas he once knew, but was not home. 

“Did she give any reason for the sudden interest in my background?”  
Solas shrugged, but then grew thoughtful, “None that she was willing to freely share. If I had to guess it would be the curse. As you are aware, we have had to give her and the Commander updates as we learn them. She has as many questions as us, and a lot more resources at her disposal. Why you? Why now? How? When? To what purpose? The same ones we all have. While Dorian and I work forward, I think Lelianna works back. She wants to know _why_ so she needed to get a feel for you. See where you came from, if you had any enemies that would risk themselves for revenge, maybe see where it would have been likely you encountered a rogue blood mage.”

Winter was surprised at how thorough his answer was. ‘Ventured a guess’ indeed. He had put some thought into that. It made sense, the Nightingale operated under the assumption that one could never have too much information. A rule Winter herself followed, it was what made her a good Scout. But it was another grievance she intended to take up with whoever had cast this on her. Not only was her life in jeopardy, but now her life at the keep. If things turned sour she would need to escape fast.

She rubbed her temples, “This is a nightmare. Ever take a breath and just stop and try and figure out how your life got so complicated? All I wanted to do was be left alone. Be by myself all off in the woods, no one but myself to answer to. Away from it all. Then this ancient asshole decides he wants to destroy the world or kill everyone, or whatever the hell it is he’s after. Rips a hole in the sky, spills demons into the world, and suddenly that dream is impossible. So I try to do the right thing, help the good guys, and what do I get for my troubles? A curse that will kill me either by driving me insane or weakening to the point I would be easy pickings for someone else to finish me off. A personal interest being taken in me by the fucking Nightingale.”

She covered her face with her hands, “UGH this is so screwed up.” She looked at Solas through her fingers, “How is this my life? Doesn’t this sound like something in a story? Ridiculous odds, ridiculous things happening. Only I don’t know who the villain is or how to vanquish it.”

Winter looked around the stall, she had been confined here for hours. She wanted to get out and do something. Somehow the small haven of Cimmi’s stall had become too saturated with information and secrets and feelings and she needed fresh air. She looked around for her crutches. “Let’s get out of here. I need fresh air”

“We are in an open barn”

“Not enough. I have to get outside of the walls, if only for a few moments.” She located her crutches under the hay and started to get up, “You’re either with me, or I’m going to club you over the head with one of these and then crutch as fast as my leg can carry me to the gate and slip outside.”

Solas felt his lips twitch, he had no doubts she would try it. Her tone had an edge to it that said she was near her limit. “If that is what you want, a few moments outside the Keep won’t hurt anything. As your unofficial body guard, I feel like it is my duty to accompany you.”

His attempt at levity worked and Winter laughed, no one had ever offered to be her protector before, and the idea was so absurd she could do nothing else. But in her current situation, another body couldn’t hurt. And if it was a mage watching her from the shadows waiting to get her alone, Solas’s presence would give them pause. From what little she knew of magic and of him just from word of mouth around the Keep, he was a mage to be reckoned with.

Solas had already exited the stall and was waiting patiently for her as she hugged Cimmi, gave her a kiss, then followed him out. Solas shut the door behind her, and gave the Bog Unicorn a respectful nod, before him and Winter set out to leave Skyhold, to get some fresh air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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